


Diplomatic Relationships

by StandinShadow



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean Lance (Voltron), Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Balmeran Hunk (Voltron), Galra Keith (Voltron), Galra Shiro (Voltron), Japanese Keith (Voltron), Keith and Lance are both kind of sheltered and spoiled, Keith and Shiro are Siblings, Kolivan is Keith's and Shiro's father, Pidge is still just from earth, Thace is the best but most blunt bodyguard in the galaxy, but Keith only realizes he's sheltered and Lance only realizes he's spoiled, so this AU is pretty AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-02 06:47:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 33,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11503950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StandinShadow/pseuds/StandinShadow
Summary: Lance of the House of Altea and Keith of Marmora's families are close friends, but mutual defensiveness, insecurity, and miscommunications have led the two boys to see each other as rivals. But when a twist of fate means they'll be spending most of their time together and Lance agrees to do Keith a favor for both their countries, the two start to realize neither of their impressions of each other have been right.





	1. The Soldier Prince Returns

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing a Royal AU and AU that alters the character's backstories to this extent, so its been a fun challenge piecing together and exploring how everyone's dynamics and behavior might be a little different while still making sure they stayed true to their core characterization and traits.

Keith sighs as he waits outside of Shiro’s door, glancing down at the metal tips of his boots. He doesn’t like being away from Shiro for too long, not since he was rescued. It was childish, since Shiro is fine, in better health than any of them could’ve hoped for (at least physically) and his recovery over the past two months has gone smoothly. But patience has never been one of Keith’s virtues and he hates being kept out of the loop. And he’d spent the past four years being kept out of it more than he should be, as the crown prince of Marmora.

Well. Former crown prince now that Shiro was back and _alive_. Keith will never forget the moment Shiro walked through the palace doors, tired and older, 22 with a white streak in his hair and a carefully bandaged side, when he’d been 17 the last time Keith saw him. Keith had been serving his required time as a squire when Shiro left for his rescue mission on Krell. Keith had insisted his duty was more important than seeing Shiro off when he’d be back in a few months, and he’d cursed his stupid thirteen year old ever since.

Until three months ago, anyway, when Shiro came back.

Keith hears the whispers; the silent questions of if Keith resents Shiro’s return and how it displaces him back to second in line for the throne. Keith is torn between being pissed off and finding them hilarious. He’s never wanted to be King, isn’t suited for it like Shiro, with his endless patience and gentle yet wise demeanor. Keith almost feels guilty for how relieved he was to be free of that future, save that his being free meant Shiro was alive and safe.

But he still thinks his place as the (former) crown prince means he should be told more. His father, Kolivan of Marmora, had never agreed, nor had his stand-in Antok. Kolivan has been away protecting and working with their allies for most of the past four years, helping to weaken the base of Zarkonia and free its colonies. Keith has barely seen his father and brother since he was 13.

A part of that was because of Keith’s choice to live with the other Blade cadets in the barracks, believing that he shouldn’t receive special treatment simply because he was the son of the king. Thace, his former bodyguard turned sword master, had noted that Shiro stayed in his suite in the palace while still training with his men, but Keith ignored him. Shiro is, was, strong and muscular, built like the fiercest of Galra soldiers. Keith is built like a coat hanger.

Keith and Shiro look alike in small ways, both lacking fur outside of their ears and scales altogether, having the same thick black hair and eyes that were far more human than Galra with their lack of night vision. But Keith also took after their human mother (or Keith suspected anyway, neither of them remembered her). He was close to a foot shorter than most of the other Marmorans and his frame was naturally slender and prone to softness when he didn’t spend most of his day working out.

Like now, since Keith’s training has dropped to only his sword lessons in the morning with Thace. His thoughts are interrupted by Shiro’s voice suddenly ringing through the air. “Keith, you can come in! Dad went out to the courtyards.”

“Are you sure you want to go to the party tonight?” Keith asks as he sits on the edge of Shiro’s bed, arms still crossed and pouting a little as Shiro raises an eyebrow. He’s asking _for_ Shiro. After all, he hasn’t been back for that long and he needs to focus on recovering his strength and preparing for his future. It definitely has nothing to do with how awkward Keith is at parties.

“I haven’t seen Allura in person in nearly two years,” Shiro reminds him with a small, almost adoring smile, gaze growing soft. Keith lets out a small sigh, because he knows that look and there are few arguments that can overcome it.

“You hadn’t seen me in four,” Keith tries, glancing up at him and pouting a little, gaze tight and nervous. Shiro sighs and ruffles his hair, nudging Keith with his shoulder a little as they sit side by side on the bed. Keith glares at him softly, because he hates how Shiro can still read him like a book after all these years. Ulaz did always say he was the worst student in espionage, and apparently he actually meant Keith hadn’t improved at _all_ since he was thirteen.

“And I’ve spent most of everyday with you sitting on my bed and getting it dirty with your armor,” Shiro answers, shrugging and smiling in in that wide, blithe way that means he’s teasing Keith. Shiro is lucky Keith missed it.

“Not really, Thace refuses to let me train outside of sword lessons until the Court is back in order,” Keith answers with a low sigh, frown deepening as he realized just how little he’d worked at anything else since Shiro got back. He might not even be able to keep up with the rest of the guard when he went back to training at this rate. “The other guards are going to lose respect for me.”

Shiro let out a small laugh, metal arm wrapping around Keith’s shoulder and ruffling his hair again, brushing against his ears until they twitch a little instead of making him look like a depressed kitten. “No, they aren’t. Keith –“

“It’s not the same as it was for you, Shiro. You’re built like a Blade. I’m built like a noodle,” Keith cut him off with a low huff, squirming to get out of his grip, the truth of his words proven by the fact that he couldn’t. Keith crossed his arms instead, glaring tightly at the wall as though it were to blame for all of his problems. “I worked hard to be their equal. I’ve already lost muscle.”

“Keith, you look fine,” Shiro assures him, with a grin as he pats him on the shoulder before pulling his arm away, as though _vanity_ is what was worrying Keith right now. “You’d probably look better if you wore something besides armor, though.”

Keith stiffens at that, face growing still. He hasn’t worn anything besides his armor or the Blade training uniform in years. With Antok having served in his father’s place, Keith has no idea how to dress or how to move in the clothes expected of a young prince. He’d probably fall on his ass. “A Blade must always be prepared.”

“Please don’t fight anyone at the party tonight,” Shiro mutters with a low groan, running his hand over his face, ears flickering. Keith bites his lip, because that only happened once and he and Klaizap had been about the same height then. How was Keith supposed to know he wasn’t supposed to fight him when he came at their father with a sword?

“I’ll try my best,” Keith says instead, tone and expression carefully neutral. Shiro gives him a tight, pleading look, and Keith just shrugs in response. “Are you sure want to go?”

“Hunk deserves to see his hard work in action,” Shiro reminds him and Keith exhales softly as his ears flatten in defeat. Hunk, one of the lords of Balmera and the best engineer in the galaxy, built Shiro’s arm for him, worked on it tirelessly. Hunk is good, kind and funny with bright eyes, and Keith would have a crush on him if Hunk weren’t already engaged to Lady Shay (okay, Keith might still, but everyone can tell Hunk and Shay are perfect for each other, even him).

Still, Keith makes a last ditch effort to get out of the party. “Why can’t Hunk come here?”

“Keith,” Shiro says, voice a gentle warning as it rises sharply. Shiro gives Keith a pointed look, and it’s then that Keith realizes he’s figured out why Keith is so worried about his party outside of his general dislike of them. Damn.

“Lance of Altea provokes me, not the other way around,” Keith points out with a small grunt, crossing his arms tighter as he thought of the other man, with his lovely tanned skin and wide blue eyes, lean but strong arms from years of archery. If he didn’t hate Keith so much, Keith would probably have a crush on him too (and maybe Keith has had a crush on Lance since he was 7, but he’s not about to admit it).

“Just don’t rise to the bait for once?” Shiro suggests, raising one eyebrow and giving Keith a warm smile, the one that showed he believed in Keith and had faith that he’d succeed.

“Fine,” Keith sighs as he rolls off of the bed, arms falling to his side as he stood up, fists clenching slightly. He wishes he had his sword to cling to, but father had said it would seem hostile to take one to a party.

“Say that with more conviction?” Shiro asks with a crooked smile, gaze soft and amused as he stands up too. Easy for Shiro to say, when he’s going to hang out with his best friend whose apparently been helping him on his spy missions for years.

“Asking for too much, Shiro,” Keith answers instead, smirking a little despite the nervousness still lingering his own gaze as he walked out of Shiro’s bedroom. He can only hope the party will be short.

* * *

 

Shiro is Allura’s best friend. Or was, considering he’s been missing for four years (though Allura keeps slipping up with the dates, and yeah, Lance finds that suspicious). But either way, they deserve to be reunited and Lance wants to welcome Shiro back to the safer side of the galaxy. He’s been Lance’s hero since Lance was six after all, all badass yet patient and quick with a gun and purple. Lance just wishes Shiro came with a different little brother.

But no, his little brother had to be Lance’s longtime rival Keith. Well, Keith doesn’t acknowledge that they’re rivals. Not Keith who thinks he’s better than him, with his decade plus of combat training and perfect instincts and deceptively gentle smile (not that Lance ever gets to see it first hand, just out of the corner of his eye when Keith’s looking at Shiro or his dad or Hunk). Keith would never dare to think of someone as unimportant as Lance as his equal. The asshole.

Tonight isn’t about them though, Lance sighs as he leans across the white marble of the balcony. Lance needs to remember that. This party is about Shiro, hero of Marmora, and Allura, Crown Princess of Altea and his beloved second cousin (even if Coran insists on Lance calling him uncle). It’s not about him..

Lance shakes his head a little, chestnut hair brushing across his forehead. He knows he’s being a brat right now; it’s just being a weirdly distant second to the throne feels more like a being tenth. Lance knows, intellectually, his role as an ambassador (the fate of most second in liners) is important and necessary. It just doesn’t always feel that way compared to King Alfor’s and Allura’s perfect mix of diplomacy and pragmatism, Coran’s knowledge of every kingdom ever, Shiro’s and _Keith’s_ combat skills, and Pidge’s and Hunk’s genius. It just isn’t easy feeling like being friendly is a skill that measures up, no matter how much Hunk insists that it is.

Speaking of his beautiful, genius best friend, Hunk’s shining orange circlet worn by all nobles in Balmera peaked up from the side of his balcony, followed seconds later by Hunk climbing up the rest of the latter and landing on the side of it. Lance grins, face lighting up as he crosses the distance between them and captures his best friend in a tight hug. Lance really needs to complain right now, and Hunk is the best person to do that with.

“Hunk!” Lance shouts as he breaks the hug, Hunk wincing a little at the volume. Lance shrugs apologetically, smile sheepish as he pats his friend on the arm a few times. They haven’t spent time together in person in months, just spacetime and texts. Lance misses being by Hunk’s side everyday like when they were kids in school. “Always right here when I need you.”

“What are best friends for?” Hunk asks with a light laugh as he follows Lance across the balcony to the side with chairs and a sofa and a small end table, Lance collapsing on one end of the plush light blue couch with a low sigh, head thrown back over the arm. Hunk quirks an eyebrow as he sits down on the other side, lips gently pursed as he takes in Lance’s (arguably) melodramatic posture.

“Ranting,” Lance murmurs, voice low as he peers at Hunk from where his head is still dangling over the edge of the couch. Hunk lets out a groan, rolling his eyes as leans back against the sofa. Lance sits up, crossing his legs and only regretting the loss of drama a little bit. “Oh, don’t make that face. I let you be a snob about metalwork and food to me even though I don’t know anything about either one, this is the least you can do.”

“Fine, fine, but you like parties,” Hunk points out with a small frown, eyebrows scrunched thoughtfully as he glances at Lance.

“I do, but this party is with the _Marmorans_ ,” Lance defends himself, dramatically throwing his arms out as though to make his point. Hunk doesn’t seem to catch on, if the growing confusion on his face is anything to go by. Hunk is really failing him right when he needs Hunk salty side.

“You like the Marmorans,” Hunk reminds him, frowning a little as he takes a sip of the shifting purple and blue lemonade left out for Lance everyday. Lance grabs his own glass and pouts a little, because how dare Hunk use logic against him when he’s trying to have a venting session. Now is the time for complaining, not thoughtful discussion.

“They’re militaristic and violent,” Lance huffs out before taking a sip of his drink, ignoring the part of his brain reminding him that he doesn’t really believe that. Besides, there are reasons for their mild militarism that Lance knows all too well from his history classes on the split between the two Galra empires 500 years ago and – his brain really needs to stop being so fair.

Hunk seems to be agreeing with his brain, from the small shake of his head around his straw, gaze slightly disbelieving. “Okay, maybe? But you like Shiro.”

“Did like Shiro, I haven’t seen him in five years. Who knows how he’s changed,” Lance argues instead, because that at least is true. Shiro was his hero as a kid, embodying all the traits of the perfect knight – brave, handsome, kind, and loyal – but Lance has no ideas how the years have changed him. After all, until he was twelve, Keith had been an adorably chubby-cheeked kid who was so shy he spent most of his time hiding behind Shiro’s legs. And now he’s the worst.

You could ask Allura,” Hunk points out with a small, bemused smile, the kind he always wears when Lance tries to make up problems to hide his real issue. Hunk knows him too well.

“And she could have involved me in her cool spy mission, but she didn’t,” Lance says instead, scowling slightly because he is annoyed by the lack of faith there. Allura spent God knows how long helping Shiro and the others fight the Zarkonians and also working to bring them home. Even if she insists it was only a few months, Lance recognizes the placid smile that means she’s lying through her teeth too well by now. Everyone with common sense suspects Allura’s been helping Shiro since the day he left for the colonies. Hunk though, just raises a pointed eyebrow. “I know I was 14, okay?”

“Okay,” Hunk says with a short chortle, one he tries to hide by taking a quick sip of lemonade. Lance frowns, eyebrows dropping as he gives his best friend a pointed look. It’s not that funny. “So we gonna talk about the small purple elephant in the room?”

“No, because there’s a good chance he won’t come because he’s too busy learning how to murder people, and even if he does, he probably won’t bother to talk to us,” Lance snaps, because of course Hunk would somehow bring this around to Keith. Like that’s all Lance ever worries about, he worries about other things too. Just not at events with the Marmorans.

Hunk however, suddenly turns his faze away from Lance and toward the massive gardens, the fuchsia and periwinkle blossoms in fresh bloom. Hunk’s expression has become serious, almost reproachful, gaze tight and a little sad as he finally turns back to Lance. “Keith deserved to get his brother back.”

“Of course he did, I’m not saying that,” Lance swears, throwing his arms out and waving them slightly in surprise. His eyebrows slope downward as his gaze grows a little hurt, mouth forming into a small “o” of shock. Hunk can’t honestly believe, no matter how much he complains about Keith, that Lance thought he deserved that kind of fear and pain.

“I know,” Hunk assures him, expression growing gentler as he throws an arm around Lance’s shoulder. Lance lets out a sigh of relief before taking a sip of his lemonade. “But maybe try playing nice? Just this once?”

“Yeah,” Lance agrees after a moment, nodding a little as he leans back against the couch with a sigh, sinking into the plush pillows. Hunk is right; no matter how else Lance might feel about him, tonight is about Keith too. Keith deserves to be happy his big brother is back and Lance won’t take that away from him (not on purpose, anyway).

* * *

“So Shiro, the Olkari …” Keith starts as they enter the party, only to watch as one of the Alteans calls Shiro to his side. Allura appears a moment later, ankle length pink and white dress intricately designed, somehow perfectly complimenting the grey and purple of Shiro’s formal attire. They’re both all charming smiles and Keith can tell even from here that everyone at the party is dazzled by them. Keith. Meanwhile, wishes he were still small enough to get away with hiding in the gardens until they left. “Right. That makes sense.”

“So you not thrilled to be here either?” A teasing voice calls with a small snort. Keith glances down with a slight grin, finding Pidge grinning up at him, the ornate golden clips in the front of her hair doing nothing to hold down the poof. She’d recently hacked off all of her hair because it kept getting wires stuck in it, and said hair hadn’t been tamed since.

“Pidge,” Keith answers with a light grin, bowing as well as he could in his armor. It was flexible for combat moves, but still felt clunky at parties. Pidge did an equally awkward bow despite the loose green silk of her shirt and cotton of her pants, so maybe the awkwardness was just them. “Nope, only here to help Shiro out.”

“How’s that going?” Pidge asks as she raises an eyebrow, glancing past him to where Shiro is now charming a group of Balmerans and mers. He looks more at ease than Keith has ever felt at a party, though Keith knows Allura is staying close for the same reason Keith’s gaze follows Shiro as much as he can.

“He abandoned me to go talk to other people,” Keith says, turning his gaze back to Pidge with a small shrug. It’s expected. Shiro is a beloved crown prince; Keith is … an unknown entity on a good day.

“Seems about right,” Pidge agrees, gaze still locked onto Shiro, who’s gently assuring someone, going by the look on his face and the near tears in the other person’s eye. Keith’s never known someone to make people cry from either joy or relief as quickly as his brother can. “He really is charming.”

“You gotta a crush?” Keith asks with a smirk, glancing out of the corner of his eye to find Pidge doing an exaggerated gagging motion. Keith snickers, finally feeling almost relaxed now that he’s with his … Pidge is the closest thing he has to a friend, but they only see each other a few times a year and Keith has never been good at messaging people. “Okay, okay, I know you don’t. But yeah, he’s good.”

Pidge nods, smiling softly as Shiro reaches her brother, the two of them grabbing each other in a tight hug. Matt had been recovered about a year before Shiro, taken by a different faction of the Zarkonians and rescued by the Olkari. “He’ll be a good father to his men type, when he’s king.”

“Not now that I’m the one joining the Blade,” Keith answers, expression becoming a little anxious because he has no idea if he’ll ever be able to be as good of a leader as Shiro. He’s not sure what Shiro’s new role will be until he becomes king, but Keith knows his brother will take to it with ease. Shiro can do anything.

“Right,” Pidge agrees, though there’s a touch of uncertainty in her voice that only furthers Keith’s sense of anxiety. Her tone becomes more playful a second later. “Speaking of which, upgrade your sword lately?”

Keith gives her an easy smile, because this is territory he can handle. “No, but was that a coded offer?”

“You know Hunk and I like to play,” Pidge reminds him, adjusting her glasses and glancing over to where Hunk and Shay are holding court with the other Balmerans, hands laced together. Keith follows her gaze, before dropping it his waist where his sword would normally be, shrunk down to the size of his knife. “Send one to us, we’ll make it cool.”

“Will do,” Keith promises, giving her a small nod, because God knows he was their best customer. There was only one thing Keith liked collecting as much as swords. “Speaking of weapons, you went to Olkarian recently –“

“Don’t pretend to ask me about tech when you’re asking about plants,” Pidge cut him off, glaring at him with a look of pure betrayal. Pidge has never been as interested in gardening or nature as much as Keith is, no matter how cool she thinks the Olkari’s use of natural tech is, but Keith always still hopes she’ll bring back seeds with her.

“Sorry, sorry, just wanted to know about vine whips,” Keith says, though he can’t help biting his lip and glancing around the room. Pidge raises an eyebrow, letting out a small snicker of disbelief. Keith’s never been good at lying.

Pidge’s expression grows more serious after a moment, giving Keith a smile that is surprisingly gentle as her gaze goes back to where their brothers and Allura are talking in a corner. The three are alone now, forming a small circle of protection for each other, and Keith bites his lip and wishes he could help. But he hadn’t been apart of that, even if he wishes he could’ve taken Shiro’s place. “How is he doing, really?”

“Still tired, still working through it,” Keith admits, gaze softening as he watches Shiro, whose shoulders are a little slumped now that he’s alone with his friends. “But good. Better than I would be.”

“Matt too,” Pidge says with a small nod, expression growing blank as she stares over at the three of them. “We should put trackers on them.”

Keith bursts out into a surprised laugh at the nonchalant tone Pidge says that in, shaking his head a little so his bangs fall across his face and into his eyes. He really needs to cut his hair. Pidge follows after a moment, her own shoulders shaking as the tension is broken for the moment. “For sure.”

Pidge leaves after a few minutes to check on Matt, and Keith does the same with Shiro. But after two times of checking on Shiro (who eventually gently shoos him away with a joke about how it’s cute that Keith still wants to hide behind him), Keith makes his way to the garden. Keith loves the gardens in Altea, flush with flowers and fruit trees, warm and breezy, and most importantly, quiet.

Except then Lance appears around the other side of the path, his easy grin replaced with a slight glare the moment he sees Keith. Great. Keith quickly bows, muttering Lance’s title under his breath and hoping he got it right. Lance bows as well, Keith’s own title clear, if a little short, spilling from his lips.

“Oh! Lance,” Keith says when he’s done bowing, giving the other boy an expression he hopes look like a smile. Going by the way Lance narrows his gaze; Keith thinks it probably looks more like a grimace. He can still recover from this. “I hope you’re enjoying the festivities.”

“You know it’s not 300 years ago, right, Keith?” Lance asks with a raised eyebrow, scoffing a little as he stares at Keith. Keith feels his ears flatten and his face flushing and tries to push it down with his usual glare, but he doesn’t think he manages from the surprised look on Lance’s face. Lance smiles, friendly and a little sheepish. “Sorry, I hope you are as well and all that.”

“Yeah, introductions are stupid,” Keith says with a hurried nod, earning a small chuckle from Lance though his stare is a little tighter, almost nervous. Keith gives him a small shy smile, and something shocked and then sweet enters Lance’s gaze and only makes the flush on Keith’s cheeks grow deeper as his ears perk up a little.

“I’m sure they must be extra scary for you without your trusty sword,” Lance says, voice smooth and teasing as he leans toward Keith, glancing down at his waist curiously. “I haven’t seen you without that thing since you were 13.”

“I wasn’t allowed to,” Keith mutters with a low pout, crossing his arms and glaring a little as his ears bend down because yeah, he did feel uncomfortable without it. Lance frowns a little at his expression. Keith tries to salvage the moment by making a joke of his own, though his tone is too defensive and harsh even to his own ears. “Besides, I can still take down over half the people here without it. The Marmorans are good at _some_ things.”

“Of course you can, too bad not all of us had that luxury,” Lance answers shortly, crossing his arms as he leans forward to give Keith a tight look. Keith mimics his posture even as he internally winces, leaning forward as well until their foreheads are almost touching. It’s familiar for them, this position, one they end up in during almost every argument.

Keith stiffens, crossing his arms more tightly as his glare grows a little hotter. It isn’t a luxury; it’s the duty of every Marmoran soldier. Keith has been doing his duty. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Some of us had to learn about languages and those society introductions you find so stupid while you were learning how to murder people,” Lance answers with a low huff, throwing his arms up in the air. Keith winces for a second, because yeah, maybe he shouldn’t have insulted Lance’s main role at court. God knows he’s better at diplomacy than Keith’s ever been. Except wait. Did he just say -

“I don’t – I’m not learning how to do that,” Keith splutters, throwing his arms out dramatically as he takes a step back. Lance gives him a look halfway between confused and something Keith can’t read but that makes his cheeks flush again in embarrassment.

Lance finally shrugs, expression cool even as there’s something apologetic in his tone, though a hint of bafflement is there as well and Keith doesn’t understand why. “Whatever, I just mean I didn’t get to have sword fighting lessons _every_ day.”

“I could give you lessons if you’re bad at it,” Keith throws out with a narrowed gaze that could be mistaken for a glare even as the droop of his ears make it clear it’s not, voice sharp from a combination of nerves and surprise. Lance always seems so confident, almost overconfident. Keith’s shocked to hear him confess that he’s not good at _anything_ , but then Lance regularly makes asides about his lack of skills here and with fighting.

“Yeah, no offense, but I don’t need them from you,” Lance snaps back, expression hurt and Keith realizes a little too late he’d said that wrong. Again. He wasn’t sure _how_ , but he knows from the hurt in Lance’s gaze and the way he walks around Keith instead of pushing him more. “Besides, I’m a great archer.”

“Fine,” Keith huffs loudly, pouting as he glares at the ground, as mad at himself as he was at Lance for walking past him. He promised Shiro he wouldn’t argue with Lance, and then he did just that after the conversation started off well. Why is so bad at this? “Look you’re a great shot – you left.”

Keith sighs, pressing his face into a nearby tree. He decides he’ll just stay here until they call him for the end of the night speeches. It was hard to offend trees.

* * *

 

“I tried to be nice, Hunk, I really did,” Lance says as he walks back into the main hall, shoving the pink bananas he’d grabbed for him and Pidge into his arms. Hunk raises both his eyebrows in mock surprise, letting out a soft sigh that Allura quickly followed, though her stare was a little tighter and more annoyed than Hunk’s. Lance winces, because yeah, ye hadn’t seen here there until just now. “But he offered to teach me how to sword fight. Again.”

“Are you positive he wasn’t serious?” Allura asks with a raised eyebrow, crossing her arms as she took a step toward him, skirt sweeping around her feet. Lance swallows because was there a chance Allura has a point? He’s never followed Keith up on those offers.

“Of course not! He glared at me and said it really harshly,” Lances says, pointing up at the sky, voice going up an octave as he reminds both her and himself. Keith’s offers were always done with that some short tone and haughty look he always had. Besides, it had just come after that crack about Marmorans being better soldiers than Alteans. “Keith is just a jerk who wants to rub his military training in my face.”

Hunk frowns a little, looking thoughtful as he glances at a group of Marmorans whose ears are all perky and leaning towards each other from the wind or something. “You think?”

“I just said so, Hunk, just because you make him swords doesn’t make him not a jerk,” Lance insists as he crosses his arms, deciding not to add that the other Marmorans not being jerks didn’t either. They were some of his and Pidge’s best customers, and Lance isn’t going to ruin that for Hunk when most Marmorans were fine. It’s just too bad that their second prince is an insufferable genius at fighting and swords with a face that is unfairly cute.

“Maybe be a little quieter when insulting our allies?” Allura suddenly mutters in a sharp voice, glancing between the two with a slow eye roll. Lance gives her a sheepish look, about to apologize and explain that Keith just riles him up when he hears his name being announced as the next speaker. It’s time to leave his worries behind and turn on the sparkle.

“Duty calls,” Lance tells her instead with a quick shrug, putting on his most dazzling smile as he saunters across the hall. Two mer girls blush and giggle as he passes them, so Lance thinks he’s doing a pretty good job.

“Tonight we welcome back Shiro, crown prince of Marmora, from his long captivity and heroic victory over Zarkonia,” Lance calls out to the audience as he takes his place on the small stage in the front of the reception fall. His expression slides from the charming smile of seconds ago to a serious muted one, gaze sympathetic and a little sad as he glances out across the hall of people. The room has fallen into an almost reverent smile as they all stare at Shiro, who smiles stiffly next to Matt and Keith. “His actions honor all of us who fight this good war.”

“Hear, Hear!” The crowd cheers loudly, several of the Marmorans ears twitching a little, though only Keith’s flatten completely as he subtly takes a step behind Shiro. Strange how differently sound affected different people’s ears.

“And tonight we come to celebrate with his family, His Highness Kolivan of Marmora and Prince Keith of Marmora,” Lance calls as Kolivan slowly makes his way toward the stage, receiving hugs and pats on the back along the way from the Arusians and Balmerans and Olkari. Lance glances at Keith when he says his name, expression softening as he puts their earlier fight aside and remembers Hunk’s words. Keith deserves this moment. Keith looks back at him and smiles, shy and soft like he’s twelve again, and Lance’s heart skips a beat. Fuck. “We are grateful that their time of suffering has passed and their family has been reunited.”

Kolivan reaches the stage and Lance steps aside and then down the staircase, ending up by Keith’s side. Keith’s expression has faded from the gentle smile of moments before to his normal, slightly annoyed look. Keith’s ears are still flat and to the side though, arms crossed and leaning towards Shiro the more they crowd together around the stage.

“Thank you for that beautiful introduction, Lance of Altea,” Kolivan begins, voice warm as the crowd cheers for him, loud and excited. Lance rubs the back of his neck, glancing down a little at the floor. Next to him Keith gives him an unreadable look that Lance decides to ignore. “I to am happy to have my family together again, especially now that my youngest son no longer has to sleep in the barracks.”

Kolivan continues after a moment, strong, booming voice ringing across the room. His words, however, make those closest to him shake for a different reason than the richness of his baritone. “It will be good to have both Shiro and Keith in the palace once more as Shiro resumes his place by my right and Keith his role as an ambassador of Marmora.”

“What?” Keith cries, arms falling to his side and gaze growing wide as he moves further behind Shiro as the gaze of the crowd turns toward him. Lance can’t blame him for the outburst, because his own mind is stuck on “what” too.

At least no one could say the party didn’t end with a bang.


	2. The Betrayal of Marmora

Keith sits the corner of the ship, away from his father and Shiro. He hasn’t said anything since they left the party and got on their ship home, half out of shock and half out of anger and hurt. Keith’s felt embarrassed and out of place at well, most parties he’s been too, but at least it was usually his own fault. He can’t believe his father would play such an embarrassing joke on him at a party. He knows (or maybe he doesn’t, Keith didn’t exactly detail his failings in his weekly letter to his father) Keith is bad at them. This is only going to make his reputation even worse.

Kolivan glances over at him, giving him an almost apologetic smile as he inches closer to Keith on the bench. Keith huffs, crossing his arms tightly and glaring at his father, mouth pressed into a tight frown. Kolivan raises an eyebrow at the expression and Keith looks down. He knows that it can arguably look a little childish, if done wrong, but Keith has a reason to be angry.

“Are you going to pout all night, Keith?” Kolivan asks, tone light as he finally slides until he and Keith are sitting next to each other. He winces a little when Keith only gives him a harder glare, but then his lips just out of their own accord before Keith can stop them and Kolivan chortles. “You’ve changed so little since you were a child.”

Keith stiffens at that, expression going blank, save the angry slope of his eyebrows. His dad doesn’t know him at all anymore and that hurts just a little. It’s no one’s fault (Well, it’s the Zarkonian army’s fault), but it still sucks. “Actually, I’ve changed a lot, which is why that joke wasn’t funny.”

“It wasn’t a joke, Keith,” Kolivan says after a moment, and when Keith looks up at him, there’s no mirth in his father’s gaze. Kolivan’s expression is serious and unflinching, and Keith looks away first, gaze following to the ground and hands sliding from his arms to grip the bench below instead. This can’t be happening. He glances up at Shiro, praying his brother will tell him this is just a really bad joke, but Shiro merely gives him a sympathetic smile that’s closer to a grimace.

“Should’ve been,” Keith snaps, not able to keep his vehemence out of his voice as he glares at his father. If Kolivan is surprised at his outburst, he doesn’t show it, expression still neutral and stern as Keith’s voice rises a little more with each word. “You’re being an idiot.”

“Keith,” Shiro calls from where he’s sitting across from them, leaning forward as though he wants to move to put himself between them. Keith knows Shiro’s right, that this is dangerous territory. Keith doesn’t care.

“No, look Your Highness, I’m not going to be a good diplomat,” Keith explains, trying to tame some of the anger in his voice, in the way his hands are shaking from where they’re gripping the seat of the bench. Keith knows he’s not entirely successful, voice still a little too loud and a little too harsh to come off as reasonable. He wishes not for the first time that he were more like Shiro and less like himself. “Think about it, I’ve been training as a Blade for five years –“

“Keith, I’m not going to change an entire system of government and order because you don’t like it,” Kolivan answers, voice calm and expression softening a little as he glances down at his son. It’s the same way he looked at Keith when he told him he couldn’t have a horse of his own until he was 10, and Keith isn’t that spoiled little brat anymore. He refuses to be treated like one.

Keith crosses his arms again; turning his face away from Kolivan and towards the wall, just resisting the urge to shrug off the hand his father puts on his shoulder. That would come off as childish. But Keith’s frustrated, because why doesn’t Kolivan understand? “That’s not what I’m saying!”

“He might have liked it more if you hadn’t just dropped it on him,” Shiro points out, voice tight and accusatory. Keith turns his gaze back to his brother, hope growing in the pit of his stomach. Shiro will take his side. He knows him better than dad, and this surprise announcement must seem like an equally terrible idea to him. Except the look he’s giving Kolivan isn’t surprised so much as Shiro’s patent “I told you so” look, eyebrows sloped downward and lips pressed into a thin line, gaze a mix of tired and righteous.

But no surprise. Shiro isn’t upset because Kolivan made him an ambassador, but because of how he hold told him. Keith can’t stop the look of betrayal he gives Shiro, frowning softly as his gaze fills with hurt. “You knew?”

“Yeah, sorry buddy,” Shiro says, wincing slightly under the heat of Keith’s glare, smile small and sheepish. He’s still trying to play peacemaker even though Keith knows he wasn’t on his side now. Not even a little. “But I thought we should’ve eased you into it before we announced it publicly. Dad disagreed.”

“I … thought, since you enjoy a challenge, that you would adapt better to this change if it were a surprise,” Kolivan says patting Keith’s shoulder again, and then he ruffles Keith’s hair. Keith bites back the urge to hiss, because he’s not actually a cat (no matter what people say about the Galra). That and as mad as he is right now, Keith missed his father and older brother and he missed having his hair ruffled. Thace won’t do it. “I’ll admit I was wrong.”

“Yeah, you were,” Keith answers in a harsh voice, words clipped as he glances between them. His expression softens a little when he sees the guilt and unease in their expressions. They can still fix this. All Kolivan has to do is say it was a joke, and Keith’s life can go back to normal. “Both of you. This is a mistake. Besides, I need to protect Shiro.”

“Keith, it’s not,” Shiro says as he stands up suddenly, making his way across the ship until he’s at Keith’s side. He leans down so Keith has to look him in the eye, giving Keith a reassuring smile like he’s the one being unreasonable here and not him or dad. “And while the thought’s appreciated, I don’t need you protecting me. I’m the older brother here, I should be protecting you.”

“Shiro, I’m not like you,” Keith finally mutters (and definitely doesn’t whine); glare fading into a look of anxiety and his clasps his hands together. Shiro should be the diplomat and Keith should be the one in the army, so he can protect Shiro and Shiro can be loved. That’s how it should be even if Shiro is older. Kolivan pats his shoulder again; gaze soft and worried as he glances over at Keith. Maybe reminding Shiro and dad of why he’d be a diplomat will be the thing that makes them change their mind. “People don’t like me. I’m awkward and harsh, and the future ambassador for Altea hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you, he just doesn’t know you,” Shiro corrects, voice gentle as he ruffles Keith’s hair, gently scratching behind his ear. Keith is tempted to threaten to shave it off, but he remembers how bad he looked with a buzz cut too. “You’re sensitive, Keith, and once you learn to control and harness that better, it will be an asset for you as a diplomat.”

“I’m not sensitive!” Keith snaps, pouting as dad and Shiro both actually start chuckling, though they’re trying to hide it behind their arms. Okay, that hadn’t been the best way to convince them. Keith could admit it. Keith would give them that. He stiffens; his face sliding back into the tight glare from before as he realizes Shiro and dad aren’t going to be persuaded (at least not by him and isn’t that a sign he was going to be bad at this?).

It’s going to be a long night.

The walk back to the castle only furthers that, Keith suddenly being guided down the opposite hall from Shiro by his father. Keith stops mid-step, watching as Kolivan pauses a few steps ahead and turns on his heel to glance back at Keith. He raises an eyebrow, and Keith shakes his head because all of this is happening too fast and he knows what’s down that hallway. His rooms.

“I live in the barracks,” Keith reminds his father in a low voice, giving him a pointed look when Kolivan shakes his head, expression sheepish again. Keith can’t believe him. “You had my stuff moved without asking me.”

“Keith, I am sorry,” Kolivan mutters with a small sigh, and he looks more tired than he’s let Keith see him since he got back. Keith gives him a small smile, because he knows his dad has been stressed since he got back, trying to do the right thing. He’s used to making decisions quickly and without taking anyone else’s opinion into account because he doesn’t have time. Keith … can relate. “I went about this the wrong way, I realize that now.”

“The plan is the wrong way,” Keith mutters under his breath, low enough that Kolivan won’t hear him. He doesn’t want to argue anymore, not tonight. Tomorrow Kolivan and Shiro will have had time to think over what he said, and Keith will have a better argument. Tonight just had too many surprises and too much social interaction for them all not to be on edge.

Keith supposes being away from the barracks isn’t the worst thing for one night. Still, it feels weird being back in his bedroom, large and … purple. Very purple. The floor is a dark cherry wood with an intricate purple and black rug covering most of it, a rose intertwined with a sword at the center. It was their house symbol. Against one wall stood a large, ancient bookcase in the same wood as the floor, filled to the brims with books Keith recognized from his childhood and some he didn’t. Next to it was a lilac loveseat with thick cushions, two deep purple throw pillows on either side. At the very end is a door that leads to his sitting room, but Keith decides not to look there just yet.

The other wall held his dresser, tall and thin, most of the clothes he wore before his armor needing to be hung. Keith wonders if they expect him to go back to dressing like that. Next to it sits his old bed. It’s about four times the size of his cot in the barrack and several times taller, the mattress so thick Keith remembers it feeling more like a cloud. The silk sheets on top are varying shades of purple, lighter to darker, and Keith knows that if it were fall or winter, there would be a heavy black comforter on top to match the six pillows pressing against the headboard.

There’s another door at the very end of the wall, thin but tall, for where Thace’s room used to be. Keith turns toward the final wall, which is almost entirely windows, heavy eggplant drapes pushed aside to give a full view of his entrance to the courtyard and former garden space.

It looks like the bedroom of a spoiled brat, and Keith feels awkward that it used to be his.

“This whole room is stupid,” Keith snaps, just as the door to the courtyard swings open, Thace standing there tall and proud. He raises an eyebrow at Keith, face severe even though Keith can see the twinkle in his gaze. “Thace!”

“I’ll assume that didn’t include me,” Thace answers as he takes a step inside the room, surveying the space for danger as carefully as he did any room he entered. Keith dutifully mimics him, like he did in training. He tries to make it seem like he’d done that before as well; Thace would be disappointed if he found Keith hadn’t even checked for a possible assassin when he came into the room. It was pretty bad form for a guard.

“No, thank God. You know what Dad and Shiro planned then, right?” Keith says, smiling a little when they finish their survey. Thace returns it, taking a step closer to Keith when Keith holds up a finger to his lips, indicating they need to be quiet. He knows Thace has free reign of the palace, as one of the oldest and most trusted guards, but Keith still doesn’t want him to get in trouble. That wouldn’t really help them get Keith back on the Blade. “And you’re here to help.”

“Keith,” Thace mutters, voice tight and a little anxious as Keith marches past him, taking off his gloves and tossing them on the bed. He needs to think, but he also needs to sleep.

“If anyone can make dad realize he’s wrong, it’s you,” Keith assures him with a wide grin as he saunters around the room, even though Thace looks increasingly put off, his gaze narrow and eyebrows scrunched together. Keith knows that they can make Kolivan realize he should stay in the Blade together, though. Thace knows his skills better than anyone else in Marmora. Keith’s ears twitch in excitement. “Shiro too, but he’s already on dad’s side and I need to protect him. Maybe a demonstration of my field technique –“

“Keith, I’m not here to argue your case,” Thace cuts him off, stilling him with one hand on his shoulder. Keith feels his stomach grow cold.

“Then why are you here?” Keith asks softly, scrunching his eyebrows together in confusion. They already trained this morning.

“To continue my services as your bodyguard,” Thace answer, tone neutral. Keith takes a step back, eyes widening in surprise as he gently shakes his head at the idea. Thace raises an eyebrow like it should have been obvious. Keith guesses that it would be to most people, but it hadn’t even crossed his mind. Keith doesn’t need a guard; he can handle himself as well as anyone else in Marmora. It’s a waste of Thace’s time and skills. Kolivan hates waste.

“You haven’t been my bodyguard since I joined the Blade,” Keith answers in a firm voice, because he doesn’t need Kolivan sleeping in that room next door. He can handle his own attackers. Having Kolivan there to do it for him is embarrassing even if Kolivan is a better solider (he has been doing it since Keith was five).

“Keith, do you think it was by accident your room was next to mine, or that you were the only cadet with a private cot?” Thace asks, raising an eyebrow as Keith takes another step back, legs bumping up against the bed, his bed. He slowly sinks into it, unlacing his heavy black boots so he doesn’t have to look at Thace while he takes in his words.

   Keith should have realized Thace was still his bodyguard. Blade in training or not, he had still been a prince. But he never treats Keith differently than the other Blade, or at least Keith never felt like he got special treatment. Now he can’t tell if he’s just been blind to it for the past five years. Today was one of the worst. “… Yes.”

   “Always so naïve, my little prince,” Thace murmurs softly, teasingly. It’s a nickname he hasn’t used since Keith was thirteen and Shiro vanished. Keith glances up at him, expression soft and a little lost. He doesn’t want to be a little prince again, but a part of him can already feel the tides turning. Doesn’t mean Keith isn’t going to fight them the whole way down.

“Thace, I’m one of the best swordsman in the Blade and one of the most agile,” Keith says; voice the calm, pragmatic one he’d meant to use with Shiro and dad. It’s easier to be logical now that he’s not in the middle of the fight. But then that’s always been his problem.

“Yes, that is true,” Thace agrees, voice clear and even as he glances down at Keith. His gaze is sincere as it always is when he’s evaluating one of their member’s abilities. Keith smirks under the praise, knowing just how rare it is even if it doesn’t sound like much. It fades with the second half of Thace’s assessment. “You’re also the smallest and one of, if not, the weakest. And your agility and skills with the sword are most useful for missions your expressiveness make you impossible to send safely on.”

“Ulaz said the same thing,” Keith admits as his gaze drops to the floor and his ears droop, letting out a small exhale. He feels like he’s been punched in the stomach and all the air has gone out of him. Well, actually he knows what that feels like and this is even worse. “But I can learn.”

Thace comes to stand closer to him, giving him a considering look in the same way he surveyed the room earlier, like how he did during lessons when evaluating Keith’s footwork. “I believe you could have, but now you’ll learn to be a good diplomat. You care about the greater good of the universe, not just Marmora. As a soldier that can sometimes come off as cold, but as a diplomat people will see the depth of your passion and care.”

“I’m awkward and hotheaded,” Keith points out, though his voice is weak and bordering on whiny to his own ears as he flops back on the bed, boots finally off. He should take the rest of his armor off too, but he can’t bring himself to care.

“Yes, you are,” Thace agrees with a shrug, nodding as Keith sits up on his forearms to gaze up at him in surprise. It’s not that he didn’t think Thace noticed, but he figured he’d try and make him feel better. “I said learn for a reason.”

“I don’t want to learn, I want to be a Blade and work with you to keep Shiro from being kidnapped again,” Keith finally admits with a pout, falling back against the bed with a bounce he wishes were less satisfying. That’s not all of it, but as a Blade he can protect Shiro. As a diplomat, he can’t. Keith doesn’t need to look up to no that Thace is glaring at him the same way he did when he tried to sacrifice himself in their training simulations or when he spent all evening in the stables with Red instead of going to dinner. It’s the one that makes Keith feel like a child again.

“I know, but part of duty is that we have to make sacrifices,” Thace reminds him, voice gentle even as his words make Keith look down in guilt. He knows that, has lived by that. It was just easier when the sacrifice was his life and not the things he wanted to do or protecting Shiro. Then, to his complete shock, he feels a hand in his hair, ruffling the thick black locks gently before pulling away. “And I can’t pretend I’m not relieved you won’t have to risk your life anymore.”

Keith nods, expression a little softer now as Thace bids him good night. He hadn’t thought about it that way, or that Thace (or his dad and Shiro) may feel the way about him he feels about Shiro. It makes the possibility this change is actually happening feel a little less terrifying. Keith is still annoyed by how quickly he falls asleep on his old bed though, much faster than he ever did on his cots.

* * *

 

Lance sighs loudly, but Hunk doesn’t even look up from his coffee and papers because Hunk is an unfeeling friend. Lance plans this whole beautiful venting brunch for them, with smoothies and coffees and drinks, and Hunk is acting like nothing is wrong. Lance gently pokes him on the shoulder, giving his friend his biggest puppy dog eyes when Hunk glances over at him. “Hunk, how could this happen to me?”

“Them being out of strawberries? Because you ask for a bowl everyday,” Hunk points out and for a second Lance is a little sad there aren’t any, but he does ask for them everyday, so it is probably his fault they’re gone again. But he still quirks an eyebrow at Hunk, because he doesn’t mean strawberries. He means the ambassador situation.

“No, what?” Lance says, shaking his head a little as Hunk makes his best “innocent face, curling his mouth into an exaggerated oh. Now Lance understood what was going on here and he let out a small sigh. “You’re mocking me.”

“Little bit,” Hunk admits as he takes another sip of his coffee, wriggling his eyebrows at Lance. Lance snickers a little, shaking his head at Hunk. Leave it to his best friend to get him out of his head and back in the moment, which was something Lance desperately needs right now. He can’t stop worrying about what it will be like working with Keith after five years of them not getting along and avoiding each other at parties. Lance is good at being a diplomat. He doesn’t want that all just to go away. Hunk shrugs as he puts his coffee down, glancing at Lance with a considering gaze as though reading all of his worries. “I just think you’re overreacting,”

Lance shakes his head, letting out a low groan because sweet, kind-hearted Hunk can’t understand his fears. He takes a long chug of his own smoothie, licking his lips slightly. Then he glances over at Hunk, biting his lip as some of his purposeful melodrama fades away and he lets his actual insecurities shine through. “How? I’m going to have to deal with Keith of Marmora everyday for the rest of my life.”

“I mean, you won’t see him everyday and there will be diplomat things you don’t do together,” Hunk points out, patting Lance on the shoulder softly. He gives him a reassuring smile, soft and warm, and for a second Lance lets himself be comforted by it. Hunk is right, after all, there will still be plenty of times when he and Keith are apart and they’ve gone to the same places and parties without arguing before. Just not as often as Lance would like.

“Fine, most days,” Lance agrees with a small huff, taking a sip of his iced coffee this time. The morning sun beat down on him, even though he was only wearing a white tank top with a high collar and board shorts.

“I mean, maybe it’s time you two learn to get along?” Hunk suggests softly, giving Lance a hopeful look as he reached for one of the croissants in the middle of the table. Lance knows Hunk is right, but how does he give a chance to a guy who doesn’t even want to talk to him most of the time? “Keith is a good guy. Like yeah, he’s bad with words and he should work on that, especially now, but he’s spent years alone in the barracks and that couldn’t have helped his shyness –“

“Shyness?” Lance asks around the croissant he just bit into, words not computing in his head. Keith isn’t shy, he’s aloof. It was a subtle but important difference made clear by how Keith glares at everyone.

“Yeah? Keith is shy? You know that, all you have to do is look at his ears and how they droop and flatten, or the way he subtly shifts behind people or tilts his arms toward them when he crosses them,” Hunk explains slowly, scrunching his eyebrows together as though Lance should know all of this already. Lance slides into his chair a little, his thoughts about Keith’s ears at last night’s party flitting across his memory.

“He’s not a cat,” Lance mutters, though the argument sounds weak to his own ears, because honestly, Keith does remind him of a cat a lot of the time. Plus the way Hunk’s eyes are narrowing in confusion makes Lance feel like he’s missing a step here.

“No, but those are all Galra signs of nervousness and anxiety,” Hunk says, cocking his head a little when Lance’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “Did you not read up on Marmora?”

“Shiro was around a lot, I didn’t feel like I needed to,” Lance defends himself, pressing a hand to his heart when Hunk lets out a low sigh. Lance will admit that’s maybe fair, but he’s also memorized the cultural attitudes, interests, and manners of 20 different planets Altea regularly trades with, so yeah, he maybe slacked a little on Marmora. And besides, Keith’s the one who always insisted he wasn’t a cat as a kid, it’s not Lance’s fault he believed him. Keith. Keith is shy and awkward and oh God, is Lance the jerk who’s been mocking him this entire time? But no, there was still the sword thing. Good. “Being shy doesn’t mean Keith can’t be a jerk.”

“No, but he’s never been a jerk to me or Pidge. Awkward and a little distant, sure, but he’s always been friendly,” Hunk explains with a small wince, this time the one to look sheepish. Hunk’s always just either ignored or nodded along to Lance’s rants about Keith, he’s never actually offered his opinion on him before.

“Oh,” Lance murmurs, staring into his coffee as he takes another sip of it. He shouldn’t be sad about that, after all he doesn’t like Keith. But … Lance likes being liked and he hates the possibility he made Keith dislike him somehow over the past five years if Keith isn’t who Lance thinks he is.

“One time he fanboyed over my designs and honestly, it was kind of adorable,” Hunk says, smile small and hesitant. Lance spends the rest of breakfast listening to his best friend talk about his swords and the various nobles who love them, but his mind can’t help but be stuck on the first one.

Which is why Lance seeks out hi Uncle Coran, consort to the King, after breakfast. Lance may be an expert on most cultures and general court rule, but Coran is an expert on all of them. His knowledge is an impressive as it scary at times, and Lance needs advice now more than ever. He finds Coran in the gardens, watering an apple tree Pidge had sent him as a birthday present. Coran turns to him with a bright smile, waving with one hand and letting the water slide down and hit nothing with the other. “Uncle Coran, do you have a minute?”

“For you my, boy? Always,” Coran answers with a smile, placing his watering can to the side and taking a seat on one of the white marble benches next to the tree. He pats the space next to him and Lance sits down, chin in his hands as he glances over at Coran. He’s sure that his nerves are clear in his expression. “What’s going on?”

“I was talking to Hunk earlier, and he said Keith was shy,” Lance says without adding any details. His historic and mostly one-sided rivalry with Keith is well documented among their family at this point. Coran’s always pushed for friendship, and today Lance wants to hear that side of things.

“Yes, extremely! Poor child looks terrified at every party,” Coran murmurs, running his hand under his chin with a low chuckle. Lance winces a little, because that’s two people with very different words confirming it. Lance makes a mental note not to make fun of Keith’s awkward introductions anymore, or his tendency to hang out in gardens. He can stick to his being hotheaded and kind of arrogant.

Oh, right,” Lance says with a small shrug, giving Coran a wide smile and trying to act like he knew that already. The knowing twinkle in Coran’s eye makes it clear that’s not true, but he doesn’t ay anything and Lance appreciates that. “Well, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Lance sits there for a moment, staring down at one of Allura’s many flowers. This one is fuchsia and purple, and he thinks it might have been created in a lab. He’ll ask her later. Right now it’s something to focus on that isn’t his insecurities and that’s good enough for Lance. “Is that the only thing on your mind?”

“It’s just … look, Keith is perfect and I’m not,” Lance finally spits out, wincing a little at how pathetic he sounds. Coran can always see through his defenses to the anxiety below. Sometimes Lance wishes he couldn’t. Like now, when Coran is frowning at him, gaze unbearably gentle as Lance lets out a low groan and throws his hands up in the air. Why are things like this so hard to verbalize without seeming whiny? Lance doesn’t want to be a burden on Coran. “Everyone kind of is, has their niche, and I’m just Lance.”

“Just Lance is just great!” Coran says back, voice loud and cheerful, though the sincerity of his gaze belies the playfulness of his words. He wraps an arm around Lance’s shoulder, patting him on the back gently.

“Uncle Coran,” Lance mutters, raising an eyebrow as he turns his head slightly to stare up at the other man. He loves him, but “you’re great” isn’t really a helpful answer here.

“I mean it, and no one is perfect, we’ve all had to work on our skills, no matter how natural they might seem,” Coran answers him, voice firmer this time as his grip on Lance’s shoulders tighten. Lance frowns a little, because he knows that’s, he’s seen how hard Allura studies or how many hours Hunk and Pidge (and okay, Keith) spend on their trade. He doesn’t think anyone is lazy. “I didn’t always know so much.“

“I know,” Lance says instead, giving Coran an adoring smile to make it clear he knows Coran has studied and worked on his craft. No one becomes an expert out of nowhere, but he also knows his uncle had a talent for languages and for making new friends from a young age. Being a courtier and a historian came more easily for him than it would have for say, uncle Alfor.

“And to most people, you would seem effortlessly charming, and while you’re naturally likable, I know you’ve also worked hard to learn all the social rules and guidelines of every culture we encounter,” Coran gently reminds him, gaze soft and open as Lance flushes from the praise. That is true of course, and it’s the same defense he used yesterday to Keith and to himself this morning.

But Lance has never really believed it. Lance lets out a small sigh, shaking his head as he glances up at Coran. He hopes the older man can understand what he means with what he says next. “Yeah, not really that impressive compared to someone to being friends with two scientific geniuses or rivals with someone who can do backflips while slicing robots in half with a sword.”

“It is to me and it is to all of them,” Coran corrects, voice surprisingly firm as he gives Lance a stern look, as though he’s hurt by Lance’s own self-doubt. “Especially someone as shy as Keith.”

Lance flushes a little at that, at the knowing twinkle back in Coran’s eyes. Lance has never thought of it like that, that he might have something Keith is jealous of too. “About that, could I borrow some books on the Marmoran culture?”

“Of course! I’m happy you’re furthering your education,” Coran says cheerfully as he stands up, gesturing for Lance to follow him. Lance does, smiling as they start down the winding path to Coran’s rooms. He’s always loved Coran’s personal library, filled to the brim with books on every subject one could imagine and then some terrible romance novels just for added spice. “The first step to becoming an even better diplomat is being a good friend, after all.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Lance agrees in a small voice as they turn the corner. He’s not sure he and Keith are at a place where they can become friends just yet, but he’s not sure they aren’t there either. But he knows that if they’re going to spend the rest of their lives sitting next to each other at meetings, Lance wants to try. And maybe, if Keith really is a good guy like Hunk says, he’ll want to try too.

* * *

 

Keith could’ve gotten out of this, is the worst part of it. The morning after the somewhat disastrous end to Shiro’s welcome home party, Kolivan and Shiro spent nearly twenty minutes apologizing for not including him more in the decision making process, for not giving him a choice. And then Shiro mentions that won’t be going back into the field, that he’ll be focusing on political and military strategy and technology, so he can’t blame Keith for wanting to do things a little differently even if that ‘different’ scares them.

And Keith sees it in their eyes, the genuine concern and fear, the same he has every time Shiro took too long in the shower the first month after he got back. So when Kolivan offers him the choice, to return to the Blade or to stay a diplomat prince, Keith chooses duty and he chooses them. He always will.

It doesn’t change how awkward he feels in his new clothes though. Well, new old clothes, it’s not that different than what he wore as a child before Shiro left. The tunic is pure Altean silk in a light grey, with long sleeves that grow wider as they spread across his arms, swishing with every arm movement and concealing his hands a little more than they should (Keith has short, chubby fingers because nothing about him is threatening). There is a violet belt at his waist, cinching the tunic in as it hits his hips and thighs.

The pants are the same violet as the belt, Marmoran cotton and slim feet, leading down to his shoes, which are a light grey with purple tassels, the style somewhere between a slipper and a loafer. Glancing back up at his face, Keith lets out another small sigh at the small braid lying against his shoulder, tied with an ornamental gold and purple rosette with a sword going though it. Keith likes the braid, has always liked his hair longer, but the hair tie signifying Marmora is a little much.

“I look ridiculous,” Keith murmurs as he finally tears his gaze away from the mirror in his sitting room to where Shiro is sitting, clad in the finest Marmoran armor.

“You look fine,” Shiro insists as he gives Keith’s outfit a once over, nodding in approval. He’s helped pick out a lot of Keith’s new wardrobe, and while Keith likes the simpler lines of his everyday clothes just fine, Shiro’s taste in official wear makes Keith feel awkward. He looks like an entirely different person dressed like this.

“I look like a doll,” Keith mutters with a small pout, crossing his arms and ignoring the way the sleeves droop down across his shirt like wilting flowers.

“You look like a prince,” Shiro corrects him as he stands up, walking over to Keith with a small smile. He adjusts Keith’s belt so it’s just a little tighter, better showing off the smooth lines of his frame despite the silk hiding them. Keith frowns a little at that; his armor had been skintight in places, but it had never felt this revealing. “A true son of Marmora.”

Keith huffs, rolling his eyes a little as he glances between Shiro and himself, looking pointedly at his brother’s clothing. “No, you do because you get to wear armor.”

“Not all Marmorans wear armor, you know that as well as anyone,” Shiro reminds him with a small laugh, turning Keith so he’s facing the window out into the courtyard. There, people, some who work in the palace and some visitors, are all armorless and dressed in varying degrees of finery, from linen shirts and jeans to outfits that look more like his.

“Yeah, but most of them don’t dress like this either,” Keith mumbles anyway, pouting a little as he tears his gaze away from the window. His ears flatten against his head for a moment. He reminds himself this was his choice and he could’ve been back with the Blade right now if he’d wanted. It helps a little.

Shiro catches his eye and stares at him thoughtfully, throwing an arm around his shoulder as he guides him towards the door. “Are you upset about the clothes or worried about the meeting today?”

“Both,” Keith answers with a small sigh, crossing his arms more tightly against his chest. Shiro has guessed right again. The clothes Keith knows he’ll get used to over time, he might even end up liking them. But the meeting, that Keith can’t imagine ever finding anything but terrifying.

“Keith, this is just a practice session for you,” Shiro reminds him, patting him on the shoulder as they face the door to the hallway. A small part of Keith wants to go to the stables, grab Red and ride off into the countryside. They could start a farm. “Antok will be handling the main thrust of the meeting, you’re there to observe and learn.”

“I know, but I still have to be there,” Keith sighs as he opens the door instead, letting Shiro give him a not so gentle shove out of the door. Keith turns around and sticks his tongue out, some of the tension lessening.

“You have a month before your first solo diplomatic mission, you’re going to be fine,” Shiro says in a voice more confident than Keith thinks is deserved. Then Shiro smiles, crooked and proud the same way he did the first time Keith won a sword fighting tournament. “I know you can do this, Keith.”

“Thanks, Shiro,” Keith murmurs giving his brother a quick half hug before he starting making his way down the hallway. He can do this. He can make Shiro proud. All he has to do is make small talk for a few hours. Keith is going to die.

* * *

 

Lance knows he shouldn’t be staring at Keith for most of the meeting. It’s rude to Keith and the other diplomats there. But then, neither of them is representing their kingdoms for this meeting and Keith looks … different outside of his armor.

A good different. Keith’s frame is small, more slender than Lance would have guessed, the smooth and hard earned muscles in his shoulders and chest visible through the silk of his shirt, spreading down to a narrow waist accentuated by his belt and leading to slim legs and a surprisingly round bottom. And his face, carefully framed with his bangs and braids, no mullet or too tight ponytail in sight, looks a little softer than usual, gentler. So yeah, Lance is staring.

Which is how he also knows that Coran and Hunk we’re right about Keith, because he has not said a word a good two hours into their three hour meeting. He’s not meant to handle the politics today, neither is Lance, but he’s still asked after the welfare of each country and complimented each ambassador. Keith has there with his ears pressed down and body tilted toward Antok, face alternating between confused expressions and his usual glare. It isn’t the most winning combination.

“How is the rebuilding process in Krell going? You know Altea will do anything we can to help with the restructuring process,” Lance says, gesturing towards the ambassador from Krell, Iacul, with a warm smile. The man nods, something tight in his gaze as he glances over at Lance. Lance bites his lips, wondering what the man’s next words will be.

“Marmora too,” Keith suddenly shouts before Iacul can say anything. Everyone turns to stare at Keith, whose gaze feels with a quiet terror as he starts spluttering, sleeves fluttering as he tries to cross them with the same intensity as he did in his armor. “I mean, we’d like to – we have people and –“

“That’s very generous, Keith. I’d love to hear more of your thoughts on how Altea and Marmora could come together on this project,” Lance calls out with a subtle wink, earning a few playful gasps and laughter from the rest of the room. Keith gives him a blank look, one coming back up to complete his look of bafflement. “Maybe we could talk them over in the garden?”

“Yeah,” Keith answers, catching on as he rises from his seat, catching Lance’s out held arm as he reaches the door. The two are outside in the fresh air in seconds, but Lance insists on walking for several minutes in silence before he says anything. He doesn’t want anyone else to hear him embarrassing Keith.

“Wow, you were really struggling in there,” Lance finally mutters when they get to the apple tree, deciding to skip the subtleties and go straight for blunt.

Keith winces, glancing up at him through his bangs, biting his lip a little so one of his two small fangs sticks out. Lance can’t help but smile at him; he looks adorable when he’s nervous. Lance must never let Keith know what kind of power he holds in that adorable face of his. “I – was it that bad?”

“I mean, you offered help, so no, but if it hadn’t been that? Yeah, it would’ve been pretty bad,” Lance admits, patting Keith on the arm when the other boy makes an expression of despair. Keith, Lance realizes, hasn’t had to do anything he’s bad at in years, at least not with it having any importance. This whole shift must be a shock to him.

“I – look, I know I’m not good at this,” Keith blurts out, crossing his arms tighter and wrinkling the material of his shirt. The dressers in Marmora aren’t going to be happy with Keith when he gets back. Keith doesn’t seem to care, glaring slightly at his sleeve as he spits out his next words. “I’m awkward and I’m too intense and I’m not funny.”

Lance lets out a small exhale, feeling a little guilty because those were all things he’d said about Keith over the years. He wonders if Keith knows that. “Hunk says you can be funny sometimes.”

“Well tell him thanks,” Keith mutters, trying to smile though it comes out as more of a grimace. Then Keith steels himself, glancing up at Lance in a way that makes Lance raise an eyebrow. Keith holds his gaze, though his cheeks are heating up the same way they did at the party, a light blush coming across his lilac cheeks. “I – would you be willing to teach me?”

Lance blinks, turning the words around in his head a few times to make sure he heard them right. “Teach you?”

“How to make small talk, how to be … charming or something like it. I’m getting lessons on Marmora, but I need all the help I can get,” Keith admits, sounding pained that he has to do so, one slipper gently digging into the dirt below. Keith looks at him with a pleading gaze, arms coming uncrossed to rest at his side instead. “I know you’ve turned me down on combat training and sword lessons, but anything else you want, you name it. I’m really good at gardening.”

“You were serious about the combat and sword training?” Lance asks, gaze widening and eyebrows shooting up. There is no way that can be true, not with the glare and the haughty way Keith always said it. Could Lance have really been this wrong for so many years?

“Yeah, why would I joke about that?” Keith asks, cocking his head and mouth forming into a small “oh” of confusion. There is nothing in his face that would make Lance think Keith was lying, and Keith is frankly one of the worst liars Lance has ever met.

“I’m a jerk,” Lance groans, pressing a palm flat against his face as his mind went over all the times he mistook Keith’s shyness for arrogance. But then he remembers all the time Keith got riled up and called him ‘stupid’ or to grow up. This isn’t a one-sided rivalry, just a childish one. “But you were a jerk too.”

Keith deflates a little, gaze growing soft and sad, eyebrows sloping down. Lance watches as he takes a step away from, grimacing again in what Lance thinks is another attempt to smile. “Oh, okay –“

“No, Keith, look I think you and I have been on the wrong foot for a few years now, but I’d like to get on the right one,” Lance cuts him off, reaching out to grab Keith by the shoulders. Keith goes stiff for a second but then relaxes, glancing up at Lance curiously and with a fair bit of hope. “Look, I’ll teach you as much I can about the social arts for the next month or as long as it takes, and you give me some of that fine Marmoran armor in return. I guess you can throw in some flowers if you want.”

“Thanks, Lance,” Keith murmurs as Lance lets go of his shoulders, staring up at him in shock. Then Keith smiles, soft and shy, gaze growing soft and a hint of a blush in his cheeks. Keith looks vulnerable like that, sweet in a way Lance didn’t think was possible for the other boy.

Okay, lesson one? Use that smile more,” Lance says before he can stop himself, and Keith’s smile turns into confusion, eyebrows scrunching together and lips forming a small “o” of surprise. Shit. That expression is cute too. Lance might be in over his head here.


	3. Etiquette Lessons

_Day 1_

“Okay, so for day 1 I thought we’d start with table manners,” Lance calls out to him with a wide grin as Keith enters the sitting room on Altea, gesturing towards his perfectly laid out table. The bright blue of the tablecloth contrasts perfectly with the white furniture; hanging just low enough to hide any unseemly design flaws. There are about six different forks, three spoons, two knives, and four glasses lay out on the table. Lance frowns a little as he watches Keith glance over the table settings nervously, biting his lip. Did Keith not know which was which? This might be more work than Lance thought.

“Lance, I know table settings,” Keith answers in a low voice, pouting a little as his ears drooped, pointing toward Lance as though to make it clear who’d offended him. Lance has no idea how Keith’s ever managed to keep a secret in his life now that he knows how Galra ears work. Still, Lance lets out a small sigh of relief at his words. He would’ve hated wasting a day on teaching Keith the difference between a salad fork and a desert fork.

“Yeah, I know you do, not the kind of table manners I mean,” Lance explains with a warm smile, nodding toward the chair across from. Keith gingerly takes a seat, hitting himself with his sleeve as he does. Another thing for them to work on later. “I’m talking about social niceties.”

Keith frowns, eyebrows scrunching down as he takes a sip of water from the first glass. His hands are shaking a little on the glass and Lance decides not to mention it. “Social niceties?”

“Small talk,” Lance says with an encouraging nod, grinning as brightly as possible over at Keith. For a second Keith’s face goes completely blank, gaze lacking any discernable emotion. Lance is terrified he broke Keith. Then Keith winces, eyebrows sloping down and lips falling into a positively mournful frown as his ears droop. Let no one say that Lance is the only dramatic one here. “Yeah, I figured you’d make that face. Okay, let’s start with something easy. Ask me about my most recent vacation.”

“You haven’t gone on vacation lately,” Keith reminds him, crossing his arms a little and bunching up his sleeves. Keith’s cocks his head a little, mouth frown growing smaller as his eyes widen a little. There he’s got it.

Except Keith doesn’t follow that up with anything, he just stares at Lance and blinks owlishly. Keith tilts his entire body forward, gaze soft and curious as he stares at Lance. He looks adorable, but he also looks like fresh meat, like prey, and that’s something Lance never would’ve thought he had to worry about with Keith of all people. So Lance can’t help but let some of his exasperation slide into his voice. “Keith.”

“How was your vacation?” Keith asks, flushing slightly as he finally catches on, slowly uncrossing his arms as he grabs his water again. He takes a long sip, as though trying to hide his embarrassment from Lance.

“Invigorating, we went mountain climbing on the islands, dived off of a cliff by a waterfall, it was gorgeous,” Lance answers, taking on the same accent as Allura as he spoke, imitating his cousin and Uncle at once. The Altean Ambassador’s from their part of Altea, with an accent to match, and he wants Keith to feel like he’s talking to him, not Lance.

“Did you … find any good plants?” Keith asks slowly, expression almost pained as he speaks. Lance raises an eyebrow and Keith shrugs, one hand going up to make the international symbol for I don’t know. Keith lets out a low exhale; giving Lance a small smirk as though he thought that actually went well. Oh. Keith thought that went well. Nope.

“Okay, that’s fine if you’re talking to one of the Olkari,” Lance says, trying to keep his smile warm and encouraging as he nods over to Keith. Keith’s smirk only grows, though it becomes stiff when Lance lets his smile drop into an exasperated frown. “But literally no one else.”

“Right,” Keith answers with a low sigh, shaking his head a little bit so that his bangs fell across his face. Keith blew on them, but that only made them fall back into the same spot. Keith grimaces at him and Lance bites back a sigh. “Did you … meet anyone?”

“Okay, let’s try a different topic. Keith, I heard the Marmoran National Art Gallery just got a new collection of paintings from earth,” Lance throws out instead, grinning just a little too tightly. Keith is … Keith is really bad at this and even though Lance kind of knew that, it’s still a surprise somehow. He’s so used to Keith being good at everything he’d taken it for granted that Keith would pick things up quickly when he’d agreed to this tutoring job.

“Oh. Yeah, but I haven’t looked at any of them,” Keith admits, looking down with an anxious expression. He plays with the edge of his sleeve, short fingers dancing across the French cuffs.

Lance sighs when Keith doesn’t follow the comment up with a joke or some kind of question about Altea. He picks up his own water and takes a long sip, trying to consider what options might work for Keith here. “… Try lying?”

“They’re … really beautiful. They use a lot of colors,” Keith mutters, gaze darting everywhere and arms crossing reflexively. He stumbles over his words, and everything about him makes Lance feel like he just accused someone of a crime. Lance lets out a low groan, because how are even Keith’s good qualities making this more difficult? How?

“Never mind, stop lying, you’re terrible at it,” Lance says with a small sigh, running his fingers through his hair. He can tell Keith’s growing frustrated by the way he’s glaring at his plate like it’s offended him, ears turned back and starting to flatten. “Have you been to any good parties – never mind, tell me about your shirt.”

“It’s a mix of Altean silk and Marmoran cotton, with wide sleeves for easy movement. They’re not actually a bad idea once you get the hang of them. The collar is a little high for my tastes, but it’s no worse than my armor. The buttons are in the shape of a Marmoran rose,” Keith explains, voice starting out small but getting more enthusiastic as he speaks, a small smile forming on his face. His ears turn forward again, relaxed and happy. Lance is relieved they finally found a topic that doesn’t scare Keith except …

“I thought you hated your new clothes,” Lance says, glancing down at Keith with a smirk, one eyebrow raised pointedly. Keith crosses his arms again, though his ears stay in place, so Lance is pretty sure it’s more from habit than genuine upset. Lance leans back in his chair, licking his lips a little as he takes in Keith’s expression, offended but with wide, guilty eyes like he’d been caught. Keith of Marmora, who rolled his eyes at every fancy outfit Lance and Hunk wore, _likes_ his princely wardrobe. Unbelievable.

“I do! “Keith insists with a pout, though his gaze darts up to the ceiling just like the last time he lied. He seems to realize that a second to late, quickly staring down at the table. His ears are starting to go flat again, so Lance decides that’s enough teasing for now. He can make fun of Keith’s secret love for finery later.

“Okay, well either way,” Lance says with a grin, setting up the next fake conversation with a warm smile that Keith returns after a moment. That could have gone a lot worse.

_Day 3_

“How was your wedding, Lord Lenom?” Keith asks on the third day of their lessons, pouring the Lady of the Frozen Planet a cup of tea. His form is perfect as he leans over, one arm pressed against his back, sleeves no longer getting in his or Lance’s way. He’s learned the physicality of being a courtier incredibly fast. Now if only Keith’s smile didn’t look like a million bees were stinging him, he and Lance might be in business.

“Good, but maybe with a slightly less stiff smile?” Lance suggests with a small chortle, not able to hold it in when Keith was making that expression. Imagining someone being faced with that at a party, that look of pain as though he’d rather on a battlefield than here trying to make small talk, was too much.

“It’s what my smile looks like,” Keith answers with a pout as he slides into the seat next to Lance, crossing his arms with a low sigh. Keith lets his head hang a little, ears following the angle, though his eyebrows are sloped downward. Lance blinks a little, still not sure why Keith insists on trying to look angry every time he does something wrong. That’s half of why so many people find him intimidating, and not in the way that’s good for a diplomat.

“Hey, I’ve seen how you smirk when you’re using your sword, you could try that one,” Lance suggests suddenly, grinning brightly as he points at Keith’s lips as though to draw it out from his mouth. Keith blinks again, lips pressing into a small frown as he stared at Lance. “Even I have to admit it’s pretty attractive.”

“Thanks, but I kind of have to be doing something I’m good at,” Keith mumbles, crossing his arms tightly as his ears turn to the side and droop a little. His cheeks flush after a moment, and Lance bites his lip in frustration. He can’t believe Keith finds that embarrassing.

“Right, that makes sense,” Lance snaps, and he knows some of his frustration slipped into his voice from how Keith’s ears go flat. He needs to find something to lighten the mood. Lance smirks after a second, giving Keith a mischievous look between sips of water. “Well, maybe we could have someone leap out and attack you every conversation.”

“Lance,” Keith groans, shaking his head a little so that some of his comes loose from his ponytail, framing his ace delicately. Lance wonders who talked him out of the mullet and if he can send them a medal. Keith’s ears are rising despite his tone, so Lance knows he’s on the right track. 

“No, think about it, right when the conversation gets awkward, Klaizap appears so you can relive your 9 year old glory,” Lance says throwing his arms out dramatically, staring up at the invisible crowd behind them. He makes fake cheering sounds in a husky voice for a second and Keith sits up straighter, trying to glare though Lance can see he’s biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “Everyone will be amazed.”

“He was their toughest warrior!” Keith argues heatedly, crossing his arms as he stands up at his full height, not that much taller than when he was nine (which had to be disappointing when he realized he wasn't getting the Galra height after all). He looks so small and indignant that Lance can’t stop the giggles that turn into a full belly laugh. Keith keeps glaring at him even as a few giggles start escaping his own throat. “Shut up, it’s not that funny.”

“It’s a little funny, hothead,” Lance says, standing up so he can flick one of Keith’s ears as his laughter slowly fades away. Keith looks up at him wide eyes, and then he smiles that small soft one, cheeks still flushed from laughter and gaze unbearably soft. “That smile right there? Do that.”

_Day 5_

“What about the splicing between Marmoran roses and earth’s ginger?” Keith says, smile bright as he sits next to Lance on the chaise, drink in one hand. He’s carelessly moving it through the air, and Lance is genuinely afraid he’s going to end up covered in Altean lemonade any second now. Keith doesn’t notice though, smile only growing bigger as he leans forward on his next words. “I heard it makes a tea that helps cut down on exhaustion.”

“Sure, that’s probably true,” Lance agrees with a small shrug, grinning a little as he nods along with what Keith’s saying. He’s out of his element, never having been at his best with the Olkari, but Lance has to admit Keith is in the zone. “Speaking of roses, how are the gardens on Marmora?”

“Better than ever, we’ve been adding tomatoes and zoque’s because it felt like there weren’t enough vegetables,” Keith tells him, voice growing a little more serious, shaking his head as though a garden without them was offensive. Maybe it is to the Olkari. Lance nods, trying to match Keith’s expression, only for Keith to smirk a second later, gaze growing proud. “We want our gardens to be like yours, beautiful but useful. I’ve been trying to talk to Thace about adding healing herbs so we can work with the army –“

Lance gently grabs Keith’s arm, earning a surprise look from the other boy. His ears turn to the side, gaze narrowing. Lance shakes his head; smile soft, because Keith didn’t mess up this time. Pretty much the opposite. “Wait, wait, I gotta cut you off. You’re doing great, but I’m not gonna be able to keep up,” “I’m really impressed Keith, you know way more about the Olkarian agriculture than I do.”

“Thanks Lance,” Keith answers after a beat, smiling at him this time. He stands up to go, and Lance is surprised that he’s sad their meeting wasn’t longer today.

_Day 7_

“Thank you, ambassador Theyna, your concern about the Marmoran floods is appreciated,” Keith assures Lance, reaching over to press a hand over his, as is the custom between Marmoran and Altean diplomats. Today Lance is pretending to be his (soon to be former) superior in the field, a kind but stern man with a heavy beard. Lance is still a little mad no one would lend him a prop one.

“That’s everyone I had on my list,” Lance tells Keith, who lets out a deep breath, slumping into his chair with relief. Lance snorts a little, resisting the urge to ruffle Keith’s hair. He doesn’t think they’re there yet. “Congratulations, Keith, you just got through your first dinner.”

“I was still awkward at parts,” Keith points out, frowning a little. Keith is a perfectionist who’s naturally talented at anything physical, so Lance isn’t surprised he’s not used to getting B’s and C’s. But it’s gonna take Lance more than a week to get Keith to an A, even with both of them working their hardest.

“Yeah, you were,” Lance agrees with a grin, throwing a loose arm around Keith’s shoulder. He’s not going to sugarcoat things; he knows Keith isn’t the type for that. But he’s not gonna let Keith leave without a compliment either, because Keith has improved notably over the past few weeks. “But we’ve only been doing this for a week, and you were also adorable at other parts. I’d call that a success.”

Keith looks up at him, biting his lip a little as his fingers clench the edge of his sleeves. Lance wonders idly if that will replace crossing his arms. It definitely makes it clearer that he’s nervous and not mad. “So, you think it went okay?”

“Yeah, you did good,” Lance assures him, squeezing his shoulder a little. He expects Keith to pull away after a second, having always heard the prince seemed afraid of hugs. Keith doesn’t though, leans into his touch even, and it’s Lance who has to slide over to the other side of the couch.

“You’re a good teacher,” Keith murmurs, gaze dropping to his lap as he speaks. He looks up at Lance a second later, smiling a little before nodding as though to confirm his own words.

“I’d have to agree, Eliza, we’ll make a prince out of you yet,” Lance tells him patting him on the shoulder as he stands up, Keith following after a moment as Thace calls for him from across the courtyard. It’s already time for Keith to leave for the day. Keith stares at him blankly, and Lance sighs because Pidge is a bad friend for letting Keith’s education go to waste so much. “My Fair Lady. We’ll watch it later.”

Keith perks up at that, ears facing upright and Thace has to yell again before Keith disappears around the corner.

* * *

 

_Day 8_

Keith walks down the hallway, not quite able to hide his nerves even as he nods at the Marmorans in the hallway. They agreed to have the second week of training here, so Keith could feel more comfortable. He doesn’t. The opposite, in fact. Keith freezes in front of the heavy oak doors, tempted to run away instead of knocking. He’s very fast so avoiding his problems has never really been an issue. But that isn’t fair to Lance, who came all this way to help him with no real reason to, outside of some new armor.

Keith can’t do that to someone trying to help him, and especially not Lance. Lance who hates him, or Keith thought he did. Would he do him a favor if he did? But maybe it’s just because Lance is such a nice guy? Lance always has a warm smile, it’s one of Keith’s favorite things about him, along with his soft skin and bright blue eyes and long, long legs and – okay, so the crush Keith had on Lance might not have ever gone away.

That might be part of why Keith wants to run away. Keith takes a deep breath instead, pushing the doors open with both of arms, them flying backward until they hit each wall with a low thud. Lance stares at him with raised eyebrows from where he’s sitting at the loveseat that’s been pushed against the wall. The room has been emptied of all other furniture that could get in the way of their dancing lessons. There’s already music playing, a waltz of some sort, and Lance stands up and holds out a hand. Keith, as though led by instinct takes it, his other finding Lance’s shoulder with practiced ease. Turns out some things are just like swinging a blade.

“Hey, you’re not half bad at this” Lance says as they turn around the room, Keith easily matching each of Lance’s steps with one of his own, Keith easily taking the lead as they moved across the room. Keith smirks as they do a have turn, just resisting the urge to twirl Lance a little. He does dip him on the next twist though, earning a surprised gasp from Lance as he fails in Keith’s arms.

“I had dance lessons as a child,” Keith answers with a small shrug, smirk growing a little wider as Lance manages to right himself. Lance rolls his eyes at his expression, lightly punching Keith in the shoulder. But then Lance frowns, giving Keith a considering look as they shift back into position.

“You did? Even though they were sending you off to the Guard?” Lance asks, eyebrows scrunching in confusion as they move a few more steps across the room, falling into an easy pattern. It’s not one of the more complicated court dances, and Keith feels almost insulted Lance thought he needed these thick of training wheels. Then he remembers how many people he accidentally insulted last week during his lessons on the art of conversation, and some of his smugness fades away. He can kind of see Lance’s point.

“They weren’t until I was thirteen,” Keith reminds him in a soft voice, lips near his ear as they move side by side, sliding behind each other as the dance calls for. In a battle, this is how they might pair off in a battle against their enemy. Somehow it felt different in this small room a few doors down from Keith’s older brother.

“Right,” Lance mutters, shaking his head a little, expression softening a little. Keith wonders if he forgot this was always supposed to be Keith’s life and the Blade had been more of a detour. “Do you miss it?”

“The Guard?” Keith asks, cocking his head in surprise at the question. Lance gives a quick nod, biting his lip a little as though he’s worried he’s asked something offensive. Keith considers his words, wincing a little as realizes there’s more no than yes there. Keith misses some of his allies, his instructors outside of Thace, and he misses the physicality and the exercise. But he doesn’t miss the controlled structure and timelines and the denial of feeling. He doesn’t even miss the armor anymore. Keith is … he’s becoming less of a solider. “Yes and no. It’s … complicated. But it doesn’t matter.”

“No, I guess not,” Lance answers and his smile is surprisingly soft as he reaches for Keith’s hand. There’s something warm and almost forgiving in Lance’s gaze, as though he’s telling him it’s okay to enjoy this too. “Okay, switch positions.” 

_Day 10_

 “You still dance better,” Keith huffs as Lance moves him across the room with ease, as though Keith is as light as a feather. Keith huffs a little at that, because he’s still more muscular than Lance, but Lance does have three inches on him now that Keith doesn’t have his boots. It’s possible he outweighs him by a bit, but not enough that he should be able to glide across the room with Keith so easily. It was like magic and it was not helping Keith’s crush.

“I do this about once a week,” Lance reminds him, shaking his head a little bit and letting out a small sigh, as though Keith were being ridiculous. And okay, maybe is. But Keith’s good at everything that calls for his body, so he wants to be good at dancing too. “Huh, I thought you’d still try to lead.”

“I don’t always have to be in charge, you know,” Keith says after a beat, smirking devilish as he looks up at Lance through his eyelashes. Lance stares at him, face slowly heating up and Keith frowns and – Oh. Oh. Keith Flushes quickly grabbing Lance’s hand and pulling him into a series of complicated steps. Lance catches onto the dance they’re doing quickly, easily leading Keith through the quick steps so neither of them have to talk while their embarrassment still lingers in the air.

Why did he say that? Why did he say it while making that face? Keith glares at himself, letting Lance lean him down a little, but Keith lets his body fall the whole way, braid brushing against the floor. Lance stutters out his name, but Keith grabs his hand and propels himself up, easily sliding into the next move. Lance stares at him with a mild awe. “That dip was awesome, where’d you learn how to do that?”

“We use a lot of the same moves in fighting as we do dancing,” Keith answers with a low shrug, remembering the last time that he’d dipped like that there had been a sword coming at his waist. It’s good to know everything Thace and Ulaz taught him wouldn’t be going to waste at court. He frowns, crossing his arms as they break apart when he takes into the smirk on Lance’s face. “Don’t look at me like that, agility is important.”

“I’m sure it is, it’s just surprising,” Lance answers with a small shrug, shaking his head a little bit as he gives Keith another once over. There’s something warm and mirthful in his gaze, and Keith doesn’t know if he should be touched or embarrassed by it. Today was only getting more confusing the longer it lasted, and Keith could use a clue. But then, that’s true most of the time.

“Yeah,” Keith mumbles, because the more he thinks about it, the more it must be weird to Lance, Keith telling him he used to dip in fighting class. At best it makes no sense, at worst it makes it sound like Keith’s classes had never been that serious, which Thace wouldn’t take lying down.

“But actually, it makes a lot of sense,” Lance says, holding a finger up in the air. Keith blinks, letting his arms fall to his side as he leans toward Lance, ears pointing at him. Keith’s curious, because what does Lance mean it makes sense? Keith doesn’t even think it makes sense, and he’s the one mixing the two together. “You’re graceful, when you fight. It’s kind of beautiful to watch, especially with all the emotion in your expression.”

“Yeah, espionage wasn’t my thing,” Keith admits with a small, bitter snort, remembering all of his failed training missions. Perfect scores in everything else, near failing grades in anything that required him to be sneaky or to lie. Ulaz shook his head each time, each year, expression growing more and more frustrated as Keith never picked up the skills.

“No, sword fighting and looking like a Disney prince was,” Lance corrected him with a grin, giving Keith an other the top leer. Keith scoffs, rolling his eyes at the expression, one far less charming than the winks and smiles Lance gives all the girls at the balls. Then Lance’s smile grows a wistful, gaze dropping to the floor below. “I wish I’d taken you up on all those offers sometimes.”

“You still could we are … working together now,” Keith murmurs as he catches the look of regret in Lance’s gaze, fumbling over the latter half of his sentence. Keith wants to call Lance his friend. He feels like they are, or that they’re getting there and he’s wanted to be friends for over a decade now. But he doesn’t want to force that on Lance, especially when the other boy doing him a favor.

“Yeah, we are,” Lance says with a small nod of agreement, gaze teasing as he leans over and ruffles Keith’s hair, messing up the lines of his braid before sauntering out the door. Keith pouts after him, but he can’t ignore the warmth in his stomach at Lance’s words.

_Day 12_

“Okay, since you’re already a pretty good dancer, I was thinking we could focus on something else,” Lance announces as Keith enters the room, standing with wide legs as though to hide the table behind him. Keith raises an eyebrow, because what is Lance hiding? Lance slides to the left, revealing two training swords, the kind Keith used when he was 9, though these are much larger than those. Lance gives him an awkward grin, rubbing one hand behind his head. “Sword fighting.”

Keith blinks, processing his words and then still not getting it. He offered again, yeah, but Lance has turned him down like, six times. Keith never thought this day would come if he’s honest. “What?”

“I mean, if you’re still willing,” Lance says with a grimace, eyebrows sloping as though he to is going through all the times he rejected Keith’s offers of help in his mind. Keith walks over to his side though, carefully picking up one of the swords and examining it. It’s dull, unable to stab its way through anything, handle wider than Keith would find strictly useful for battle and too easy to grip to be much of a challenge. But it’s perfect for training a beginner.

“Of course, show me your technique,” Keith says with a smirk as he holds out the sword, gaze daring Lance to take it. Lance smirks back, expression growing defiant as he grabs the sword from Keith’s hand, carefully sliding his hand into position. Keith watches as Lance squares his shoulder, holding his sword out as he lunges forward and then does a few steps from left to right.

“I know it’s not great,” Lance says when he finishes with a pivot, facing Keith again. His gaze looks embarrassed, and Keith imagines a little like the one he wore all of last week (if with a little less of a glare.)

“No, but it’s not terrible either. Here you want to put your arm like this,” Keith says as he moves behind Lance, pressing his front to Lance’s back as he gently grabbed both his arms. Keith can hear Lance’s breathing grow shallower as he moves shoulders into a better position before grabbing his elbow. Keith pushes it forward, his chin coming to rest against Lance’s shoulder as he does, hair brushing against Lance’s chin. “And move like that.”

Keith lets go after that, feeling a little overheated as Lance copied the move. The way he stumbles, glancing back at Keith as though seeing him for the first time, makes Keith feel a little better. But then Lance tries again, grip firmer and arm more sure. Keith smiles and gestures for Lance to do it again, this time Lance has it down perfectly, arm gliding through the air like a bird. “Like this?”

“Better, much better, we should maybe add some foot work,” Keith says thoughtfully, glancing down at Lance’s feet as he does. Lance chuckles a little from across the room, but Keith waves him off, trying to decide what would be best for Lance, given how little sword training he’s done since he was a child. “I’ll do it first and then you can follow me. Don’t worry if it takes a few times to get it, Thace had to show me more than once too.”

Lance snorts as Keith does the steps, to the right and back, to the left and forward, then back and to the right, all with the necessary lunges and twists. In some ways it isn’t any different from dancing. Lance tries to follow, missing a few steps and shaking his head as he nearly takes off one of Keith’s bangs with some sloppy arm work. “Yeah, but you were like nine.”

“It’s easier to learn that kind of stuff as a kid,” Keith answers with a small shrug, because that’s what all of the Blade used to tell him whenever foreign nobles got too complimentary about his technique. Lance scoffs, trying the moves out again, this time only missing one. “Close, but with a little less turn on the heel, but it was really good, Lance.”

“You’re not a bad teacher either,” Lance murmurs with a soft smile as he does the sequence again, hesitant but with none of the moves missing. He places his sword to the side when he finishes, giving Keith a soft grin. “A lot more patient than I would’ve expected, I gotta admit.”

“I’m not _always_ trying to fight people,” Keith tells him with a small, almost impish grin. He turns on his heel and lets Lance, laughing in surprise, follow him down the hall. Keith turns back and grins more widely as they reach the door, their hands brushing as Keith holds it open for him. No. Truth to be told, Keith has never been trying to fight _Lance_ at all. Keith ignores the way Thace scoffs from down the hall.

_Day 15_

“Senator Nylem, it’s an honor to see you again,” Keith murmurs as he bows at the waist, one arm stretched out at 90 degree angle. Lance dutifully kisses his hand, lips oddly cold as he bends down, not meeting Keith’s gaze. Keith wonders if that’s standard procedure to or not. Keith decides he’d rather not know the answer, not when tensions were already running high. “I hope your well. I expect your studies on the use of healing herbs in combat is coming along well?”

Lance smiles, not looking exasperated or tired for the first time in days. Keith lets out a small sigh of relief as he sits down in a nearby chair, sinking into the pale pink cushions. Altea knew how to make couches, if nothing else. Lance leans over and pats him on the shoulder, gaze bordering on proud as he speaks. “Good job, you remembered name, title, and a fact about what they do.”

“I read his research when I was trying to see if the herbs had any connection to nlemph,” Keith admits with a small shrug as he takes a sip of the water set out for him. They’ve been working for hours already, and they still have at least ten people to get through. Marmora needs less allies.

“Oh my God, of course you did, you and Pidge are such nerds,” Lance answers with a small laugh, one Keith joins in on after a moment. It’s a nice moment of respite that Keith knows won’t last, not when they’re finally at the thing Keith might be worse at than anything else: first impressions.

_Day 17_

“Queen Luxia, it’s nice to see you again,” Keith begins, voice small as Lance’s expression grows bewildered and haughty. Keith bites his lip trying to figure out what he’d said wrong. Again. Oh right, he doesn’t know Queen Luxia; they’ve never been at court at the same time. Keith doesn’t think it’s a big deal, but Lance does and he’s the expert here. Keith looks down, one hand clenching the edge of his sleeve. “To meet you. How is being free from the parasite eating –“

Then Lance actually reaches out and presses his hand over Keith’s mouth, eyes wild and eyebrows rising to his forehead. Keith scrunches his own together, grimacing even as he also blinks a little. He has no idea what he did wrong this time until he hears the scandalized tone in Lance’s voice. “Keith!”

“You know about it too!” Keith argues, crossing his arms and sneering a little as he glances up at Lance who lets out a loud groan. Lance takes a step back, shaking his head like Keith is hopeless. Keith takes a few steps back, creating as much space between them as the balcony allows. It’s not nearly as much as he’d like.

“Yeah, everyone knows about the time the Mer of The Frozen Planet got brainwashed by an evil parasite that ate them, but we don’t bring it up at parties,” Lance finally mutters, voice cold and harsh, gaze tight as he stares over at Keith. Keith looks down feeling ashamed of his mistake. Keith’s making too many, and he’s not sure how to fix them for once. His instincts are hone for a different type of danger. “It’s awkward and makes them relive their loss,”

“Oh right,” Keith says in a low voice, gaze only growing more anxious as he crosses his arms a little tighter across his chest. That seems obvious now and Keith feels like an idiot.

“Let’s start over,” Lance sighs, rolling his eyes as he got back into position. Going from the tired expression on the face and the tension in his jaw, Lance thought Keith was an idiot too. Great.

“Queen Luxia, it is a pleasure to meet you,” Keith murmurs, knowing he sounds awkward and nervous even as the words spill out of his lips. He glares as he kisses Lance’s hand the expression sliding on like a well-worn glove. It doesn’t leave his face as he rises; giving Lance what he hopes is a passable smile. He could really use a win today. “I hope you find Marmora well.”

Lance pokes him in the forehead with his index finger, narrowing his eyes as his other hand clenched into a fist. Keith is guessing that wasn’t a win after all. The frustrated, maybe even angry tone in Lance’s voice as he speaks confirms it, words coming out like he’s spitting each one in Keith’s face. “Try it without the glare, Keith.”

“It’s just my face,” Keith objects, not for the first time since he started taking society lessons from Lance. His inability to get through one conversation without glaring at someone has become a sore spot between them.

“It’s a defense mechanism because you’re awkward and shy, but you need to let it go,” Lance snaps, though his softens after the word shy when he sees how Keith’s ears flatten at the side of his head. Keith reaches up to touch one of them, resisting the urge to cover them with his hands or to well, glare. Keith isn’t shy; he’s just not good with new people. Or crowds. “It makes it look like you think you’re too good to be there.”

“Yeah, not that easy,” Keith mumbles under his breath, crossing his arms as he stares back down at the ground. Nothing is easy anymore and Keith hates it, hates how bad he is at something he’s supposed to have been doing since birth.

Lance, surprisingly given that he’s one of the best courtiers in the business, seems to get it, leaning over to pat Keith on the back even as he turns away from him and faces the door to go inside. Keith guesses they’re cutting the session short today because of their mutual frustration. “Just, try it?”

_Day 21_

“Master Klaizap, it’s been awhile. Sorry I tried to fight you, but you are Arusia’s fiercest warrior,” Keith says with a small, shy smile, looking down at where Lance is kneeling on the ground. He bites back a laugh, bangs falling across his face as he shakes his head at him. Then he smiles a little wider as Lance leaps up, blushing as Lance suddenly wraps his arms around his back. He didn’t see a hug coming. “I don’t usually let strangers hug me, but you’re all so cute I guess it’s okay.”

“Thank you, your grace,” Lance answers, mimicking the bright speaking patterns of the Arusians, grinning as Keith hugs him back gently. Keith nods as they let go, rubbing the back of his head as they both bow and then take a few steps back. Lance leans against the wall, goofy grin fading into a cocky smirk.

Keith lets out a small sigh as their game is over, shoulders slumping as he gazes over at Lance. Keith’s eyebrows slope down and his ears go to the side as he speaks, gaze anxious and he knows it. “So, how’d I do?”

“You were perfect,” Lance says, voice warm and just a little smug as he gives Keith a once over before nodding in satisfaction. He looks like the cat that ate the canary. Keith shakes his head a little, glancing down toward the marble stones underneath his red tennis shoes. They’re a gift from Pidge, and a nice distraction from facing Lance while Keith tries to decide if he’s serious or not. Sometimes Keith has a hard time telling with Lance.

“How’d I actually do?” Keith finally asks as he glances back up at him, tilting his head toward Lance and biting his little. Keith knows he looks ridiculous and he doesn’t even care.

“I’m serious, you were all sweet and awkward, like a puppy,” Lance promises as he takes him by the shoulders with a soft smile, gaze bright and proud like when he figured out small talk two weeks ago. Keith beams under the gaze, ears twitching toward Lance and a small smile growing on his face. Lance shakes his head the sight, letting out a small laugh. “People won’t even know what to do when you turn into your passionate hothead mode to beat them in a debate.”

“Still not great with words,” Keith reminds him with a crooked grin at the words, expression sheepish. It doesn’t feel as bad, admitting he’s not good at something, when Lance is there cheering him on every time he makes progress. It’s different than the cool, objective focused lessons of the Blade, but not a bad different. Not bad at all.

“You’re getting better,” Lance promises; gaze surprisingly tender as he ruffles Keith’s hair, one hand brushing against one of his twitching ears and lingering there for a moment. Keith’s still blushing when Thace comes to collect him for the ride home and he only hopes that Lance doesn’t notice.

* * *

 

_Day 23_

“I figured we’d use this week to figure out whom we should keep you around,” Lance announces without so much as a hello as he pushes his way through the door into Keith’s sitting room, looking through his heavy collection of notes. Keith waves at him anyway, moving over on the love seat so that Lance can sit next to him. Lance slides into the chair with ease, throwing one arm around the seat like he would at home. “The Krell ambassador is a no.”

Keith crosses his arms at Lance’s words, looking offended and ready to fight at the same time as he leaned forward. “He didn’t even try to help Shiro!”

“Yeah, but you can’t say that, which is why you need to avoid him,” Lance explains with a shrug, keeping as close as he can to a neutral expression n the face of Keith’s anger. He agrees with Keith, the ambassador from Krell doesn’t seem trustworthy, but more to the point, he riles Keith up almost as well as Lance does. They can’t have that at a meeting. “The Balmerans will be fine since you and Hunk already have a repertoire, and Shay likes everyone.”

“And I know enough about the crystals from Allura and Shiro if anyone else is there,” Keith agrees with a small nod, making a note on his own, smaller pad of paper. Keith grins as he does, before biting his pen slightly. Lance honestly expects his tiny monster fangs to punctuate it and spread ink everywhere, but he remains thankfully dry. “We know whose coming from earth?”

“Not Pidge or Matt, so you don’t have built in friendship going for you, but it’s a military guy so you should be able to find a few things in common,” Lance answers with a small shrug, though he catches the nervousness that enters Keith’s gaze as he awkwardly makes notes. Lance leans over, letting his arm wrap around Keith’s shoulder a little for support. “Just focus on swords.”

Keith nods, shoulders relaxing a little and ears perking back up, though the anxiety still lingers in his gaze. “The Olkari are gonna be there, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’ll go well,” Lance agrees, smiling brightly as he playfully shoves Keith’s shoulder, trying to keep the other boy’s spirits up. Keith grins, gaze growing dreamy and far away, and Lance can almost see the miles of untouched forest and vine whips dancing behind his eyes. Truth be told, Keith will probably do _better_ with the Olkari than Lance does after only a month of this. “They’ll probably like you even _more_ than they like me.”

“I do remember their crops better,” Keith answers back, tone and expression blank as he shrugs at Lance. But Lance can see the twinkle in his gaze, and he lightly shoves him as they both dissolve into laughter.

_Day 25_

“Can I bring my sword?” Keith asks out of the blue one day when they’re going over table settings, marking down Lance on side of him and Hunk on the other. Lance isn’t sure if they’ll be much sitting at the ball, but it’s still worth making sure they’re both surrounded by friends if they can swing it.

“Huh?” Lance murmurs, expecting Keith to explain why he needs to bring a weapon onto the dance floor. A beat passes as Keith moves the Olkari to sit across from him, moving Klaizap one seat over to be next to Shay. Still no explanation comes, Keith’s focus entirely taken up with moving the little chess pieces with nametags attached. “Keith, why would you need your sword?”

“It makes me more comfortable,” Keith says as he glances up at Lance, smile crooked and a little sheepish. Lance scrunches his eyebrows together, because what kind of threat is Keith expecting to encounter at this ball? Keith shakes his head at Lance’s expression biting his lip as one hand comes to rest on the sword in question. “I haven’t gone anywhere without it since I was a kid.”

“I mean, I guess it should be fine as long as you keep it knife sized,” Lance answers after a moment, smirking a little at the way Keith’s ears twitch in excitement even as his face stays calm. It’s nice having a built in guide to Keith’s emotions now. “You’re lucky, I can’t do that with my bow.”

“You still do archery?” Keith asks, raising his eyebrows as he sits the chess pieces aside, glancing up at lance with wide eyes and his mouth forming into a small “oh” of shock.

Lance winces a little because he knows his arm muscles aren’t as obvious as Keith’s – Keith is small and compact, whereas Lance is lanky – but he thought they were still pretty visible. That, and Lance doesn’t want Keith to think he’s the only one who can protect himself in the room. Lance may seem goofy or shallow, but he’s good at what he does and he’s good with the right weapons. “Don’t have to sound so surprised, Keith.”

“No, it’s not that – do you still do competitions? I bet you win all the time,” Keith says; voice slowly rising in excitement as he leans closer and closer toward Lance. His eyes are still wide, but his mouth widened from the “oh” into a bright smile. His gaze looks almost awed as he asks Lance the next question, and Lance has to resist the urge to laugh at how childish (and adorable) Keith gets about sports. “How do you always hit the target?”

“Well Keith, let me tell you all about it,” Lance says with a cocky grin, throwing an arm around his shoulder. Lance spends the afternoon telling an eager Keith about his many victories, and he’s a little sad when he finally has to go back to Altea and leave that bright smile and dreamy eyes behind. Lance makes a note to invite Keith to his next competition.

_Day 27_

“Why so grumpy, I thought we were breaking you out of being an emo child,” Lance asks when he walks into Keith’s sitting room to find the other boy pouting. His legs are pressed against his chest with his arms wrapped around them, and the glare he shoots Lance would have terrified him a few weeks ago. Now Lance just sits on the other side of the sofa, one leg underneath him as he stares over at Keith.

“I went to training with the Blade this morning, secretly,” Keith admits; glare softening as his eyebrows slope down. Keith pauses, glancing first at Lance and then at the floor, as though he’s unsure he can finish his story. Lance gives him an encouraging look, though a small part of him is afraid Keith is hurt or there’s a traitor or - “I couldn’t keep up.”

“Well yeah, you haven’t been training as a Blade for three, no almost four months now,” Lance says with a note of exasperation, his own eyebrows dropping a little. He can’t believe Keith made this seem serious when that’s all it was.

“Still,” Keith murmurs, shaking his head a little bit as he stares over at Lance with an expression bordering on despair. Lance scoffs a little, because Keith is being a little dramatic here, given that the Blade’s training regiment is one of the most intense in the universe. He’s pretty sure most people wouldn’t be able to keep up after a week off. Still Keith pouts at him, crossing his arm as he does, though Lance barely notes that. No, it’s Keith’s face that strikes him. For weeks now Lance has thought it was his hair framing his face that gave it that impression of softness, but up close he can see that it’s Keith’s face itself, cheeks a little rounder than when he was with the blade and some of his sharper lines softened a hair.

“Hey, you’re cheeks are kind of chubby again!” Lance shouts before he can stop himself, pointing at Keith. Keith eyes go wide, eyebrows darting up as he leaps to his feet. Lance follows, his expression mirroring Keith’s because what did he just say and why did he say it like that? They stand there staring at each other in bewilderment for a moment before Lance tries again. “I mean, no it looks nice. I can see your dimples again. It’s cute.”

“It’s not cute, I’m getting soft!” Keith snaps, gesturing at his narrow frame in frustration, gaze narrowing in frustration. Lance follows his hands in bemusement, because he has no idea what Keith is referring to, and okay maybe he shouldn’t be laughing. But also Keith’s worrying about getting soft to _Lance_ of all people is kind of ridiculous. “I mean look at this!”

“Look at what –whoa, Keith,” Lance trails off staring as Keith pulls his shirt open, the tie at the waist apparently the only thing holding it shut. Lance blinks a little because Keith’s right, he’s a little softer, but he also looks way hotter. Lance has seen Keith shirtless at the height of his Blade training, catching sight of him by mistake in the locker room. He’d been all hard lines and sharp angles, as much bone as boy. Now though, there’s enough weight to give smooth, strong muscles definition and contour, chest and stomach a perfect combination of hard lines and gentle dips and curves, none better than the dip of his hipbone -

“… Please don’t tell Shiro I did that,” Keith says, cutting off his reverie as he suddenly pulls his shirt shut. Lance knows that only has a few seconds has passed, realistically, but it feels like longer. Keith looks up at him, biting his lips, cheeks flushed and gaze shy but also … hopeful, like maybe that impulse hadn’t been about showing Lance how much muscle he lost so much as it had been about showing Lance how nice he looked.

But no. Keith doesn’t know how to flirt and besides, not even he would go that far the first time he tried.

“Yeah, wasn’t really planning on telling your brother about you starting a strip tease,” Lance murmurs instead, fighting the way his own cheeks are heating up with a wide smile. Keith lets out a low groan, shaking his head as he starts pouting again. Lance, deciding to let instinct guide him as much Keith had a few seconds ago, leaned down so his mouth was close to Keith’s ear. “And you look better than the last time I saw you shirtless.”

Lance moves past Keith, glancing back to catch the look of confusion on the other boy’s face with a small snicker. Lance can feel Keith’s gaze boring into him as he makes his way across the room down the hall, smirking when he hears footsteps behind him. “Wait what? Lance!”

 _Day 30_  

“To thank you for your service and aid to Marmora, I would like to present you with your own armor,” Keith says, bowing perfectly at the waist as Thace presents him with armor just like his own, save that it was white instead of grey and the purple lines were a sky blue. They’re the colors of Altea and Lance’s own house, and Lance knows not a combination that’s used by the Blade. Keith had this specially made for him.

“Keith I wasn’t serious, but this is awesome,” Lance crows, running his hand down the arm as he glances at Keith out of the corner of his eye. Keith smirks, gaze warm as Lance carefully picks the armor up and places it on his ship. “You even got it in my house colors.”

“Best armor in the universe,” Keith answers, voice proud as he takes a step toward Lance. His smile grows softer, gaze a little hesitant as he suddenly grabs Lance’s hand with his own, holding it like it was something precious. Lance has to remind himself it’s an Altean custom of thanks before he lets the fluttering in his chest grow too strong. “I want to thank you personally, Lance. You didn’t have to do this for me.”

“No, but hey, it was actually kind of fun,” Lance tells him with a grin, soft and bright as he snakes one hand behind Keith’s back to poke at his slightly flat ears. They twitch up immediately; Keith laughing as he playfully shoves Lance off of him.

“Yeah, it was,” Keith murmurs, gaze growing wistful as he smiles at Lance, crooked and longing. He takes a step back and Lance frowns a little at the distance between them. “I’ll miss hanging out with you.”

“What? Keith we’re going to be working together for years, you’re not gonna have time to miss me,” Lance reminds him as he bridges the gap between them, poking Keith in the forehead again. Keith rolls his eyes, but his gaze is more hopeful than sad now, and that’s all that matters to Lance. He smiles at Keith, gaze gentle and a little teasing. “Besides, we’re friends now.”

“Yeah, we are,” Keith agrees, voice laced with suppressed happiness that’s clear in his excited, tender gaze and the way his ears are leaning toward Lance. Then something amazing happens. Keith moves forward, wrapping his arms around Lance’s shoulders, chin pressing softly against his shoulder. Lance hugs him back after a second, hands finding their way to his back. It felt different, more personal when he wasn’t pretending to be Klaizap. After a moment Keith breaks the hug and steps off the edge of Lance’s ship. Lance waves goodbye as the ship doors roll shut, his heart beating a little fast in his chest. He _liked_ Keith.


	4. Feelings Boil Over

Keith’s in the middle of his fitting for the gala, already feeling awkward and a little like a doll when he hears a knock on his door. Keith bites his lip but nods at Thace, because he knows it could be Shiro or his dad checking up on how he’s doing. They’ve been trying to give him more space since he switched roles and got help from Lance, apparently deciding he’s an adult now. But it doesn’t stop them from still showing up out of nowhere to make sure he’s eating and sleeping enough or just to tell him how proud they are. Keith would be upset if he didn’t do the same thing to them several times a week. Their family has been apart too long for their not to be some clinginess at the start.

Except it’s not his family, it’s Lance. Lance, in a long sleeveless white tunic, the lean muscle of his arms plainly visible from his shoulder blades down to his light blue wristbands. There’s a subtle geometric pattern throughout, one that draws the eye to the planes of Lance’s body, or at least it draws Keith’s gaze there. His plants are a baggier blue, down to his blue tennis shoes. He wonders if Pidge color-coded all of her friends or just them.

“Lance!” Keith cries, eyes going wide and looking around the room as though trying to find something to cover up with, remembering his shirtless state. He didn’t plan on stripping for Lance quite so soon. His shirt is a deep crimson this time, with subtle brocade detailing throughout and what looks like a high collar. Keith wonders what it would look like cropped, but decides to wait until he’s been to a few parties before making that suggestion. He doesn’t want to scare find out he has bad taste on top of all the other things he’s worried about for the Gala in two weeks and the ball – the Marmoran ball – a week after that. “What are you doing here?”

“Relax, Keith, I’ve already seen you half naked,” Lance reminds him with a slow smirk, wriggling his eyebrows pointedly. Keith flushes as his ears turn toward Lance, glaring softly at Lance in embarrassment and a little bit of hope he can’t hold back. Keith’s main motivation when he took off his shirt had been to show Lance how he’s wasting away. But … a small part of Keith also had been hoping Lance liked what he saw. Keith’s never been one to do things in half measures when he can go full throttle.

In the corner of the room, Thace’s gaze snaps to Lance, lips pressed into a thin line. His large, clawed hand comes to rest on his blade and Keith is pretty sure he can see Lance heart beating through his chest. He forgets sometimes how terrifying non-Shiro and Keith Marmorans can be to other people. “What?”

“Ignore him, Thace,” Keith says with a low exhale, giving Lance a tight glare, before turning his gaze to Thace. Keith smiles at him, soft and crooked, gaze a little anxious. Thace nods, smirking a little, a silent conversation Keith doesn’t quite understand even though he’s part of it. Thace moves toward the door to the right, slipping through it so he and Lance are alone with the seamstresses. Oh. Keith pushes down a flush as he turns back to Lance with the same look he was giving Thace, almost pleading. “The gala is in two weeks.”

“Oh, I’m aware, that’s why I’m here,” Lance answers with a smirk as he takes a step toward Keith, grinning boldly as he gives his chest another once over, gaze almost a leer when it lands on his shoulder blades. Keith is starting to think shirtless is the way to go after all. “Wouldn’t be much of a friend if I abandoned you’re socially awkward ass.”

“My knight in shining armor,” Keith murmurs dryly, expression carefully blank as he stares down at Lance from the chair. It’s nice to be the taller one for once.

“Your armor,” Lance answers back with a pointed smirk, and Keith thinks Lance is flirting with him. Maybe. Flirting Lance looks a lot like playfully competitive Lance, so he could also be trying to say he looks better in Marmoran armor. Keith wishes Shiro or Thace were here to give him signals from the corner of the room. But he can’t ask Thace to come back in for that. He’d say no, for starters.

Instead Keith decides to follow his instincts, smirking a little as he gazes down at Lance. He cocks his head to the side, tongue sliding across his lips playfully. “And don’t forget it.”

“Make the sleeves wider,” Lance says after a beat, staring at Keith with wide, curious eyes. He looks a little like someone is pointing a flashlight in his eyes. But then Lance blinks, shaking his head a little as he takes another step toward Keith. He looks at his shirt, one hand brushing against his sleeve and shakes his head. “Close, but maybe a quarter of inch more, so they’re obvious. We want to make people notice when Keith walks into the room.”

“No we don’t,” Keith objects, voice coming out as more of a whine than he would’ve liked, ears flattening a little. The seamstresses ignore him and keep making the sleeves wider instead. “Lance, I won’t even be able to swing my sword if they’re that big.”

“Good, we kind of want you not to get into any fights,” Lance answers back with a shrug, smiling like a cat as Keith glares at him with no heat. Keith sticks his tongue out at him after a moment, not able to cross his arms until his shirt is finished. Lance raises an eyebrow at him, expression teasing as he pokes Keith near his hipbone.

Keith decides that’s probably flirting. People didn’t touch people they just want to be friends with on their bare hip. Probably. No one has ever flirted with Keith before. “Do you wanna stay for breakfast?”

“I didn’t come two hours to skip it,” Lance answers with a smile as he takes a step back, the pins in the sleeves apparently reaching his satisfaction. Keith is allowed to step out of it, finally free to grab his hoodie from the floor and slide it over his head. It’s too big, makes him look smaller than ever, but Keith hadn’t known Lance was going to show up when he put in on this morning. “You don’t need to look so nervous, Keith, you’re gonna do fine.”

“Here’s hoping,” Keith answers with a small grin, before bowing to the seamstresses and thanking them for all their hard work. Lance watches him with a look of pride and something else that makes Keith’s stomach feel like it’s doing flips. He really hopes this is flirting.

* * *

“Hunk?” Keith asks as he walks into the small drawing room in the main courtyard, finding the Balmeran sitting there in a bright yellow tunic with an orange sash, one that brings out his warm marigold eyes, if Lance does say so himself. He did pick it out for his friend. Lance is wearing a blue sweater with a subtle design on it, slim brown pants underneath, casual but attractive. Lance knows Keith expects him to be there, having told the other boy after breakfast he’d be back on Saturday for one last practice session. He just hadn’t mentioned that he was bringing company. Keith smiles and waves awkwardly, earning a small chortle from Lance and a wave back from Hunk.

Could’ve gone worse.

   “You can do this, Keith,” Lance assures him, standing up to lead Keith over to Hunk. Hunk stands up slowly, scrunching his eyebrows together as Keith does a small half bow. Lance hasn’t told Hunk why he’s here either, wanting both his friends to be as natural as possible. “Just remember what we went over in our lessons.”

“Hunk, you’re really funny. Like maybe the funniest person I know. And obviously one of the smartest, but everyone knows that. And the swords you make with Pidge? Top notch,” Keith starts, words coming out in a ramble as he gestures at Hunk. He smiles, small and warm, gaze beaming with admiration as he compliments Hunk. They’re blunt and almost a little childish, but that’s part of Keith’s charm. Every word he says is what he believes. There’s never a reason to think he might be lying to you, except maybe by omission. “And that’s not even getting into how handsome –

“I think Hunk’s getting the picture,” Lance cuts him off, voice a little too harsh going by how Keith’s ears droop at his words. Lance winces, shaking his head at himself. He’s not here to make Keith feel bad for being attracted to Hunk. Everyone’s attracted to Hunk; it doesn’t mean he’s still not going win Keith over with his charm and friendship. Lance pats Keith on the back, smiling brightly at him to try and make it clear that he’s not mad. Keith’s ears perk up a little and Lance lets out a breath.

“Well, I gotta say, you’re the second person to tell me I’m handsome today, Keith,” Hunk says with a warm laugh, gaze growing soft as he thinks of Shay. Lance has never seen someone quite as in love as his best friend, given that he and Shay have been dating since they were about 12. Then Hunk frowns, scrunching his eyebrows together as his gaze flits between Lance and Keith. “Lance, why is Keith showering me in compliments?”

“Practice for the Gala,” Lance answers back with a shrug, gesturing for Keith to join them on the couch. Keith sits down next to him, smiling awkwardly at Hunk, whose eyes have gone wide.

“I see,” Hunk mumbles after a moment, looking lost and a little hurt, gazing at his hands. Lance blinks at that, cocking his head and frowning at his friend, because why is Hunk sad? Today is supposed to be about working on Keith’s speaking skills and building friendships. No one should be sad about that. “So those were fake compliments?”

“No! Hunk, I like you a lot,” Keith snaps before Lance can say anything; gaze determined and sincere as he leans over Lance to lay a hand on Hunk’s shoulder. Lance doesn’t know how to feel. On one hand, the crush he just realized he has is confessing to someone else. On the other hand, said crush is half in his lap. Things are kind of coming up even for him. “I’ve wanted to be friends since I was six.”

Friends. Keith wants to be _friends_ with Hunk. That makes more sense, since Keith knows as well as anyone that Hunk only has eyes for Shay. Lance lets out a small sigh of relief, earning confused looks from the other two that he tries to push away with an overly bright grin. Lance grabs both their shoulders, smiling at Hunk assuredly. “And Keith’s a terrible liar, so you’d know if he was.”

“Well, I already considered us friends so … good news,” Hunk says with a grin, leaning over to playfully punch Keith on the shoulder. Lance doesn’t miss the half grimace, half smile on Keith’s face, because yeah, sometimes Hunk forgot his own strength. Still, Keith’s gaze is bright as he looks over at Hunk and Lance knows he did good even if this does nothing to help Keith’s diplomat skills. “Hate to cut this short, but I do got a girl and a gem to get back to.”

“I’ll see you at the gala, Hunk,” Keith tells him with a grin as Hunk rises from the couch, shaking hands with the other boy before Hunk pulls him into a quick half hug. Keith stumbles for a moment before returning the hug, though Lance notices it’s shorter than the one they shared a week ago, less intimate. He’s probably overthinking it. Lance waves at Keith as he walks Hunk down the hallway, waiting for his friend to tell him what he thought of their meeting. Hunk is kind but also very blunt, so if things went badly, he’s not going to sugarcoat it.

“Wow, man, you got it bad,” Hunk says as they enter the hangar, gazing over at Lance with a playful grin as he gently shoves his shoulder. Lance’s gaze widens and then narrows immediately, because how did Hunk know? Lance is always careful to never be obvious about his genuine crushes, only the ones he doesn’t care about. It’s how he protects himself from rejection.

“I do not!” Lance shouts when he realizes too much time has passed without him saying something, Hunk giving him a pointed look as they reach his ship. “I just want Keith to do well at the Gala. As a friend.”

“Okay, whatever you say,” Hunk answers with a shrug, though the way he flattens out his eyebrows, lips in a thin line, suggests that he doesn’t believe Lance. Lance lets out a small exhale, shaking his head because It’s complicated. He and Keith are barely friends and Keith hasn’t been around anyone but soldiers and his family since he was 12. Lance can’t exactly rush this, if there even is a this. Hunk though, gives him a knowing look as he climbs into his ship. “You’d be a good political match, though.”

Hunk isn’t wrong there; Marmora is one of Altea’s most important allies. Them dating, as long as it went well, could only be good for their countries. There’s nothing standing in their way, really. Except Lance not knowing if Keith likes him back. That could be a bit of an obstacle. Lance makes his way back to the sitting room, relieved to find Keith waiting for him there, the other boy fiddling with his knife. “Hey Keith, do you wanna do more sword training by any chance?”

“Sure, I’ve been waiting all week to get my hands on you,” Keith murmurs as he rises, smirk teasing as he walks over to Lance, a little more confident than usual. Lance raises an eyebrow at his words, following Keith into the courtyard and wondering if there’s a chance he’s overestimating how naïve Keith is to the ways of the world.

* * *

Keith waits for Lance by the door, playing with the edge of his braid nervously. He decides it looks less awkward than crossing his arms or gripping his sleeves. He hears footsteps behind him, something swishing gently across the floor. It could be an Altean tunic, but the foot pattern doesn’t sound like Lance. It does sound familiar though.

“So you ended up getting sent after all,” Keith calls as he turns around, coming eye to eye with Pidge. She’s wearing a plain but well-made pink dress that falls to her ankles, shoes a white kitten heel. She shrugs, peering over her glasses at the crowded room behind them. Keith follows her gaze and winces a little bit at the amount of people in there. “I wish Shiro was here.”

“And I wish Matt was, but we have to make do,” Pidge mutters, shaking her head as she comes to stand next to him. Keith gives her an expression halfway between a smile and a grimace, and Pidge returns it for a moment before her eyes reach his waist with a surprised look. “They let _you_ bring your sword?”

“They let you bring your phone?” Keith asks, raising an eyebrow pointedly as he stares at the pocket of her skirt, phone (and screwdriver, but Keith is nice enough not to mention that) visible through the lines of silk.

Pidge follows his line of vision, letting out a small snicker as her hands come down to brush against the phone in her pocket. Keith might be able to fight off a few people with his sword, but Keith can bring down entire countries with the click of a button. Hunk too, and he’s really strong. People thought of Keith as the dangerous ambassador (or well, he assumed they did), but it’s really those two people should be scared of more than him or Lance or anyone else. Pidge, though, just shrugs. “Point.”

Their conversation is cut off by an arm looping through Keith’s own, long limbs entangling with his and making Keith feel just a little more relaxed. Next to him Pidge raises an eyebrow and makes a face before waving goodbye, walking toward the ballroom and grabbing Hunk on her way in. Keith swears he sees her hand him five dollars. Lance smiles down at him, warm and soft, a few messy light brown curls falling across his forehead, and Keith forgets about Pidge and the gala. “Keith, shall we?”

Well, he remembers a second later as Lance leads him into said gala, where the importance of their positions means there’s an actual line waiting to greet them. Damn. Lance charms each person, greeting them formally and personally in one go, kissing hands and winking. Keith can’t do that. Not yet, and probably not ever. Keith smiles at everyone, forcing his glare away so instead his nervousness shines through on his expression as he mumbles out shy but largely correct introductions. As he goes down the line side by side with Lance, Keith notices something’s different about this gala from all the other ones he’s intended in the past five years (of which there were about six, but still).

“No one’s glaring at me!” Keith whispers to Lance with wide eyes, squeezing his arm a little as he leans in conspiratorially. A few people chuckle, either because they overheard him or his sudden grip on Lance’s arm, but it’s more kind than mocking.

“That’s because you’re not glaring at anyone, you goof,” Lance tells him with a warm grin, leaning over to ruffle his hair a little, careful not to disturb the small gold hair clip holding down his cowlick. Keith smiles back softly, letting go of Lance’s arm when he realizes he’s still holding onto it. Keith doesn’t want to be obvious with his crush unless he’s got a reason to think it’s returned, and Lance may have flirted with a few days ago (maybe), but he’s also flirted with nearly everyone in the room tonight.

“Oh right,” Keith says as he pulls away from Lance, glancing down at the floor only for Lance to gently nudge his arm as they come to the end of the line. The woman in front of him is beautiful, elegant with an inviting smile. She reminds him a little of Allura.

“It’s nice to see you again, Queen Luxia,” Lance says with a deep bow, one that Keith quickly imitates, just missing hitting Lance in the face with one of his sleeves. He’s taking that as a win. Next to him Lance smoothly kisses the Queen’s hand, and Keith considers but decides against following suit. That feels like something to pull only if you know someone well and have charm to spare, and Keith’s got neither.

“Always a pleasure, Prince Lance,” Queen Luxia answers in a warm voice, smile bright as she glances at him with familiarity. Keith crushes the jealousy building in his stomach, because it’s not fair and not going to help him keep his face friendly. She turns to him, gaze growing more curious. “And your friend is?”

“K- Keith of Marmora, ma’am,” Keith answers with a small, crooked smile. He realizes too late he shouldn’t have used Ma’am, but the Queen looks more amused than offended so Keith decides to keep talking, words coming out in a small voice. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, your highness. I’ve always wanted to visit the Frozen Planet, but I’m not good at swimming yet.”

Keith wonders if that was the wrong thing to say, offensive somehow. But Queen Luxia laughs, bright and warm, and the three of them spend the next few moments discussing Keith’s swim lessons (and yeah, the amused look on Lance’s face makes him wish he’d kept that secret a little longer) and how beautiful the waters on The Frozen Planet are in the summer. Lance promises he and Keith will come visit in the summer, and Keith’s heart is still beating a little too fast at that ‘we’ as he watches Lance and Queen Luxia walk off together to find the Ambassador from Krell.

Keith knows he needs to mingle by himself, that’s part of the reason Lance left him alone. But Keith can’t help watching him for a few moments, gaze soft and longing as Lance laughs loud and just a little too long, longer fingers outstretched as he reaches for a glass of wine. “Do you have a crush, my child?”

“Senator Ryner, I’m so happy you’ve come to the Gala,” Keith says, turning and bowing at the same time, only years of agility training saving the movement from being awkward. Keith knows he’s blushing at her words, face and neck heating up at how obvious he’s being, ears twitching a little. But apart of him has already moved on, glancing up at the senator from Olkari with wide, excited eyes. He’s been waiting for this conversation for a _month_. “What are the woods like in Olkari right now? Pidge tells me the forests are in bloom, I’d love to see them like that, and I’ve only been in the fall. It’s great then too, though, really quiet.”

Senator Ryner looks surprised for a moment, then pleased, smile warm and appreciative as she describes the various types of blossom to Keith, who can’t stop smiling and nodding at every new thing he learns. 

* * *

Lance spends about half an hour talking with the ambassador from Krell, a polite but distant man, doing his best to charm him or at least make him acquiesce to Altea’s call for aid. He doesn’t like the man anymore than Keith does, to be honest and expects his days in the court are numbered after the Kerberos disaster, but he still has to talk to him. But Lance is relieved when he’s able to leave him and Queen Luxia, as much as he likes her, and make his way back to Keith.

Lance is relieved to the find the other boy chatting with the ambassador from Olkari, gaze excited and hand motions large enough that his sleeves flutter in the low wind of the open courtyard, drawing appreciative looks from the more fashion minded in court. He knew that was a good choice. He walks over to them with a warm smile, one that Keith returns, gaze bright and excited, though Lance isn’t arrogant to pretend it’s for him when a weapons and nature expert is right there next to them.

“Hey Keith, Ambassador Ryner,” Lance says with a short bow, shaking her hand with a respectful nod. The Olkari aren’t ones for casual flirting. Plus ambassador Ryner is old enough to be his mom. Instead he glances between them with a respectful smile, though his gaze lingers on Keith. Senator Ryner smiles softly at that, wise and mysterious like she always is. “What are you two talking about?”

“The Olkari weapon biologists are developing vines that can turn into whips,” Keith answers, not able to keep the eagerness out of his voice, gaze positively sunny. Lance nods even though he doesn’t have a clue what Keith is talking about, gaze tender with affection at this side of Keith, rarely seen but dazzling when it is. Keith’s lack of guile is breathtaking when he’s happy. “They’ll react to your biochemistry too. But that’s not even the best part, wait until you hear about the rose swords.”

Lance nods as Keith rambles, but he’s not quite able to stop the flicker of boredom that comes over his face at the mention of _more_ plants. Lance is only Altean and he has his limits. He winces at his own faux paus though, giving an apologetic smile to Ryner, given that it’s her plants they’re discussing. “I’m sorry, Senator Ryner.”

“It’s quite alright, Your Grace,” Senator Ryner answers with a small, knowing smile, patting Lance’s shoulder softly. Lance nods, a little relieved as he laughs at himself, Keith joining in with a small chuckle of his own, shoulders bumping together. “I know this subject isn’t of interest to you, but I’m glad it’s of great interest to Keith here. Marmora’s one of our most important allies in technological development, after all.”

“You have Marmora’s full support,” Keith promises, voice bright and sincere as he meets her gaze. Lance looks on, pride feeling his chest as he sees how well Keith is doing, but a little bit of anxiety is there at the edges. Altea is one of Olkarian’s greatest allies as well, after all. Keith suddenly bows again to both of them, gaze drifting to the corner of the room where the Arusians are holding court. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Lance follows Keith with his gaze, expecting to have to step in at any moment. He doesn’t expect this encounter to go badly by any means, but he does want to keep an eye on Keith. After all, the last time Keith had any significant interaction with an Arusian, Keith pulled his blade on them. Keith had also been nine, but still, Klaizap has a long memory. Lance watches as Keith bows to the Arusians, smile gentle and a little nervous as he apologizes to them for that attack all those years ago. Lance expects Klaizap to be haughty or bemused.

He doesn’t expect Klaizap to leap up and hug Keith, expression warm and affectionate. The other Arusians crowd around Keith’s legs like he’s a hero. Did Keith rescue Arusia and forget to mention it? But then Lance hears Klaizap mutter something about them being fierce warriors and Keith being as cute as when he were a child, and Keith blushes soft and sweet and –

Oh. Lance has maybe ruined his own chances before they even got started. Keith’s so good at everything, it shouldn’t be a surprise he’s good at this in his own way right from the start. But it means he might not Lance anymore after tonight, won’t need support and guidance and advice. And what else does Lance have to offer someone like Keith, who’s beautiful and quick and kinder than most people realized before today? Keith won’t abandon him, he’s not a jerk but … he probably won’t fall for him either.

“You look pale, are you all right?” Senator Ryner asks as she passes him again, and Lance bites what he wants to say about how no, he’s not all right. Not when everyone else sees how adorable and awkward and cute Keith is too. Is this jealousy? It’s different than what he felt over Keith calling Hunk handsome, more longing and wistful. Lance wants to be the one who brings out those smiles in Keith.

“Yes, thank you, Senator Ryner,” Lance says instead of all that, smile polite if a tad restrained compared to his usual as he nods at her. He glances toward the door to the gardens, knowing he could use some fresh air. “Just feeling a little light-headed.”

Lance makes his way to his favorite bench, the one he sits with during his talks with Uncle Coran, and sighs, pressing his face into his hands. He can’t let his insecurities ruin this burgeoning … whatever it is with Keith, not when that’s petty and not when he likes Keith so much. But at the same time, Lance wants to feel like he and Keith are equals, that he has something to offer Keith, and most of all that Keith _wants_ him too. And now Lance is less sure of all of that.

He doesn’t notice Keith watching him from the doorway, gaze soft and longing as Thace tries to usher him down the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter, because I hope to get the last one up later tonight (well, early tomorrow, but semantics).


	5. The Dance of the Diplomats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, my goal was to get this done before SDCC and I got it in done just under the wire!

Lance prides himself on not avoiding Keith after he realizes that Keith won’t need him soon. Six weeks ago, Lance would have for sure. Of course, six weeks ago he didn’t like Keith and now he has a painful crush on him, but the point is that he’s grown as a person. So when Keith messages him asking if he wants more sword lessons, Lance agrees even though it will just remind Keith of how many things Lance is bad at again. He still finds himself in the courtyard in front of Keith’s rooms, Keith smiling cheerfully as he holds up a practice sword.

There’s something both sweet and frightening about how much Keith loves his blades. Lance wonders if Keith has a weapons collection hidden away somewhere in the palace. If not, Lance is sure he will once he starts doing more work as a diplomat. People like to give ambassadors gifts, especially ones they found cute or likable. Thanks to Lance’s hard work and Keith’s adorableness, he’s both now.

“I think the Gala and the meeting on Saturday went okay,” Keith mutters shyly as he picks up the sword for Lance, holding it out to him with sloped eyebrows and an unsure gaze. Lance shakes his head, biting back a smile because how could Keith not know if the Gala went well? Maybe he still needs Lance a little at all, at least to let him know how well he’s doing at parties. That’s something.

“You were great, Keith,” Lance assures him with a supportive smile, raising his eyebrows as he takes the sword. Keith raises an eyebrow, cocking his head a little bit like he doesn’t believe Lance. Great, not only is Keith beautiful and tough and a adorable, now he’s modest too. Since when, Lance isn’t sure, but he is and that only makes him all the more likable. “Everybody really liked you.”

Keith smiles a little more brightly now, sliding into perfect form as he swings his sword through the air a few times, limbs moving gracefully and easy like he doesn’t even have to think about it. Lance guesses that’s true, with the years of training and natural grace Keith has. Lance is still a little jealous; he’s a great shot, but being a great shot means he has to concentrate each time, has to think. Keith can afford not to, at least here. “You think? Me?”

“Yeah, so like this?” Lance asks as he suddenly swings his sword in the air, trying to imitate what Keith did seconds before. It doesn’t go well, Lance stumbling slightly as he over rotates his arm, footing off. Lance scoffs at himself, glaring at the sword and then a little at Keith. Keith just shakes his head, gaze narrowed and focused as he goes through the motions again, and this time a little slower so Lance can watch him more easily. This time Lance sends his practice sword flying through the air. Thace doesn’t say anything when he picks it up and hands it to him, and Lance is glad for that.

“Not quite. Here,” Keith says, coming over and carefully taking Lance’s forearms again, body pressed against his back. Keith moves his arms with ease; grip strong as he guides Lance. Lance feels the flexibility and agility of the motions, feels Keith’s soft skin pressing against his own and thanks God for short sleeves. Maybe today isn’t all bad after all. “See, follow my foot work and it should be fine.”

“Been following your footwork and not getting it, so I kind of doubt it,” Lance answers with an awkward laugh, trying to ease the tension in the air that he created. He’s embarrassed that he’s not getting this, swing always just a little too wide and feet just a little too slow. Keith got being a diplomat down in a month, and Lance can’t even figure out the basics of sword training in two weeks.

“Hey, no one is good at anything on the first try,” Keith tells him with a kind smile, though there’s something teasing in his gaze as he repeats Lance’s words back to him. Lance knows this is the part where he’s supposed to laugh more genuinely, let out a sheepish grin and see that Keith’s right. But Keith _was_ good on the first real try, and Lance is … Lance is terrible at this.

“ _Some_ people are,” Lance mutters instead, knowing he sounds petulant and like a child as he sets the sword aside. He takes a few steps away from Keith, hands pressing against his hips in frustration. Lance knows it’s not fair to be mad at Keith for his easy grace and natural talents, especially not when those very things attracted Lance in the first place. Lance just wishes he had a little more of both.

“Do you mean Hunk?” Keith asks for a beat, frowning slightly, gaze soft and confused as he stares up at Lance. “I mean, he’s genius – not that you aren’t –“

“Never mind, It’s cute how oblivious you are,” Lance answers with a deep exhale, because how did Keith not get that he meant him? Sure, it’s true that Hunk is good at most things he tries – the genius part is right – but he’s also not here right now. He’s not the one whose being good at everything lowers Lance’s chances at love. Keith frowns at his words, expression shifted into a pout as his ears shift forward in concentration. Lance doesn’t want to still be here when Keith realizes that Lance meant him, doesn’t want to see the hurt in Keith’s gaze. “How about we call it quits for today? I’m feeling kind of tired,”

“Oh, okay,” Keith says in a small voice as Lance starts walking toward the end of the courtyard, pace just a little too fast for Keith to keep up unless he moves swiftly. One of the many advantages of long legs and a short friend. “I’m a bad shot.”

“Hey, hey, we’re okay,” Lance promises, wincing a little as he turns around to face Keith, whose gaze is nervous and ears drooping. Apparently Lance’s insecurities were more obvious than he thought. Lance leans over and ruffles Keith’s hair, putting on his brightest smile even though he’s not feeling it right now, not with his own self-doubt and the worry in Keith’s gaze both hitting him at full force. “I just need to fly to Earth for a few days tomorrow, and I still gotta pack. Spacetime me if you need help, okay?”

“Or if you want to talk,” Keith throws out with his shy smile, the one Lance wishes were just for him. Lance melts a little, nodding as he starts off again towards the ships. He glances back once and Keith is still standing there in the courtyard, one hand on the hilt of his sword and the other waving at Lance. Lance waves back with a sigh.

* * *

Lance doesn’t want to talk, as it turns out. Keith calls him three times in the first half of the week, and Lance had answered each time. But he also seemed distant and distracted, ending the conversations much quicker than he usually did when they were talking during his lessons or the weeks leading up to the Gala. Keith tries to tell himself it’s just because Lance is busy, and Keith shouldn’t keep distracting him anyway. Still, Keith wishes Lance would show up with his easy grin and teasing manner, make fun of Keith’s clothes. Something.

Keith glances in the mirror, wondering if his outfit’s too much. This is the first ball on Marmora since Shiro vanished, so Keith gets why they need to make a statement. He’s just not sure why he had to be the statement. Keith glances in the mirror one last time before they left the corridor. He’s wearing a lilac shirt this time, fitted in the waist and chest to show off the lines of his shoulders and waist, sleeves in the same style as Lance insisted on for the Gala. Apparently it adds to his cuteness. The belt at his waist an eggplant, his pants in the same color and slim fit to the point where they border on leggings. His hair has lilac threads woven into his braid, ending in the same hair tie with the Marmoran rose he wore to his practice session a few weeks ago.

If Keith doesn’t know better, he’d think his family was trying to find him a husband. He glances over at Shiro, who gives him an awkward smile, his own armor heavy on his frame as he leans over to press a hand on Keith’s shoulder encouragingly.

“Lance has barely talked to me all week,” Keith murmurs with a small sigh, one hand coming to rest under his chin. Keith can’t help the sadness that enters his gaze, pouting a little as Shiro snickers next to him. Snickers, like Keith’s abandonment is something to mock. Keith glares at him, crossing his arms a little more carefully than usual to keep from wrinkling his shirt. He doesn’t think he’ll get many new ones for the season after this, and he’d hate to ruin the seamstresses’ hard work.

“It’s a ball, Keith, and dancing is _one_ of the things you’re good at doing,” Shiro reminds him with a grin, throwing his arm around Keith’s shoulder. Keith glances up at him, some nervousness coming back into his gaze. Dancing yes, but not small talk. Not without help or at least the knowledge that the help is nearby, Lance’s easy laugh and soft smiles from across the room if Keith needs them. Also, one?

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Shiro,” Keith mutters, sticking his tongue out at his brother as he messes with his hair in the mirror, again, pulling on one of the strings until it looks a little messier. Keith prefers messy, it makes him feel more like himself.

“You don’t need Lance to get through this, you’ve done two events and they both went well,” Shiro reminds him, patting him on the back. Shiro’s smile is confident and warm, gaze encouraging. Shiro genuinely believes in him, his skills and abilities, and Shiro has always pushed Keith to be his best. If he’s doing it tonight, it’s out of love and because he knows Keith can succeed. Keith can do this.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Keith says, voice a little more confident as he gives Shiro a small smirk, turning from the mirror to walk toward the Great Hall that leads to their ballroom. He stops by the door; smirk turning into something a little more nervous as he grips the handle. “So I can’t stay near you?”

“No, Keith,” Shiro answers with a small chuckle, raising an eyebrow as he gives Keith a gentle shove. Keith sighs softly and pulls the door open, making his way down the empty hall with Shiro, Thace joining them halfway through with a nod. He’s been scouting the entry way for enemies, as though Keith is important enough to have any yet. The walk is silent, Shiro disappearing with a wave as they enter the ballroom, joining their father in the corner of the room. People come to them, not the other way around. Keith doesn’t have that luxury.

The silence only lasts a few minutes when one of the newer mer ambassadors comes over, smirking in a way that makes Keith uncomfortable. It’s not like his own, playful or because he knows he’s doing something badass, or Lance’s challenging and teasing ones. It’s mean, his gaze cold as he gives Keith a once over. Keith tries to shake off the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Lord Nexum,” Keith murmurs with a low bow, smiling awkwardly and unable to keep the nerves from his gaze as he rises. It only grows worse as the Nexum takes his hand and kisses it without asking. Keith flushes, the dark purple spreading down to his neck and his ears going flat.

“Ah yes, Keith of Marmora,” Nexum says in a voice that’s silky and pleasant in a way that doesn’t match the steel in his gaze. Keith tries to think of a safe topic but all he keeps coming back to is asking how mer turn their tails into legs on land, but somehow Keith doesn’t think that’s any more appropriate than asking about the parasite that tried to eat them. Keith doesn’t need to come up with a topic though, Nexum doing it for him as his hands trace the air right next to Keith’s ear. “I’d heard they threw you out of the Blade. Anger issues?”

“It was a choice I made for my country,” Keith answers, voice a little tight even as he manages to keep a smile on his face. Well, it might be more of a grimace, but he’s not glaring yet. Keith counts that as a win.

“Of course, a choice,” Nexum agrees with a placating nod, voice doubtful and condescending like Keith is a mere child. Keith pouts a little at that and then quickly pushes the expression away, trying to keep his face neutral. Nexum gives him a once over; an emotion Keith doesn’t recognize entering his gaze, even as it stays calculating, words just a little too dismissive to be accidental. “Well, at least these clothes suit your … size better.”

“Thank you, ambassador,” Keith says, smiling in a way that feels fake, ears drooping slightly even as he tries to force them up. He hopes they aren’t too obvious. Nexum smiles, a hint of annoyance mixing in with the emotion Keith doesn’t know and the coldness. Then the annoyance vanishes, his smile becoming predatory.

“If only the same could be set about your brother,” Nexum murmurs, voice soft and sympathetic as he gives Keith a knowing look. Keith narrows his gaze, arms crossing against his chest at Nexum’s strange words. Shiro has and always look every inch the hero that he is. Tonight is no different. “Dressed like a soldier when he spent the better part of his mission as a failure.”

“Excuse me?!” Keith says, voice rising as he leans forward to glare at the other man, hands balling into fists. Keith knows people are starting to stare now, but he can’t bring himself to care.

“And that boyfriend of yours, Prince Lance of Altea? How does a quiet Galra deal with someone as obnoxious as him?” Nexum asks with a shake of his head, gaze tight and piteous, as though he feels sorry for Keith. As though anyone should feel sorry for Lance. Keith is already seeing red from the comment about Shiro, and now it’s turning into a deep crimson, Keith’s fists tightening with every word. “Of course, you’re not a real Marmoran, are you? Just like he’s not a real prince –“

“Shut up!” Keith shouts, voice harsh and wild as he glares hotly at the older man, one hand coming up to poke him angrily in the chest. Keith hears the gasps around him, the whispers, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not when this asshole is insulting the people he cares about. “Lance is the best ambassador I know, and my brother is a hero. When was the last time you or any of the mer took on Zarkon? Oh that’s right, _never_!”

Nexum has the gall to suddenly look hurt, letting out a small gasp and gaze growing watery as he stumbles away from Keith. Keith turns around to face the rest of the ball and winces at what he finds there. The expressions range from shocked to horrified, small glares and looks of disappointment being aimed at him from everyone in hearing distance. Keith realizes now that he’s the only one they heard, with the exception of Hunk, who’s at least sympathetic even as he winces for Keith. Fuck.

And in the corner of the room is Lance, eyebrows sloping down and mouth hanging open a little, gaze filling with shock. Lance just saw how badly Keith failed him, how easily he gets riled up and forgets all their lessons. Keith does the only he can think of: he runs. Out of the ballroom and into the quiet fresh air of the gardens. He leans over and grabs the side of a nearby tree, leaning on it for support as he lets the weight of how badly he just fucked up wash over him.

“I thought what you said in there was very true,” A voice calls out, pulling Keith out of his reverie. He glances down to find Klaizap staring up at him, expression fierce as he bows slightly to Keith. Keith follows suit, smiling crookedly when Klaizap jumps up and hugs him when he starts to rise. Keith hugs him back, some of his anxiety lessening at the touch.

“Thank you, lord Klaizap,” Keith answers with quick nod, patting the Arusian on the back before the other jumps down, landing easily on his feet. Klaizap, despite coming from a peaceful people, has the spirit of a soldier. He’s volunteered his services to the Marmoran army many times. But Klaizap has also never yelled at anyone in the middle of a crowded room, never accused their people unfairly like Keith had. “But it doesn’t change the fact that it was … not appropriate. Lance’ll be mad.”

Klaizap blinks a little, crossing his arms just like Keith does when he’s confused, lips pressed into a thin line. Maybe Keith is actually half Arusian and not Galra at all. “Is Lance in charge of you?”

“No, but … we need to be equals,” Keith explains in a soft voice, gazing up at the balcony with a small sigh. Lance deserves a friend, let alone any of the things Keith wants to be, who can do well by him and make him proud. He doesn’t deserve to be stuck with a hothead who ruins things for him and for their country. So when Nexum walks out onto the balcony and catches Keith’s eye, Keith decides to swallow his pride and apologize. “I gotta fix this.”

* * *

“Do you think I should go talk to Keith?” Lance asks as he comes to stand next to Hunk, gazing around the room worriedly when he doesn’t see the familiar dark purple hair and ears anywhere. Keith’s left his own party, and Lance knows Keith didn’t need to tell him that’s bad form. Keith’s either so upset he’s hiding somewhere in the palace, or worse, he’s left it altogether in a fit of impulsiveness. Lance knows Keith once rode Red two hours away from the palace when he was 12, God knows how far he could get now.

“I was kind of surprised you didn’t cover yelling at guests in your lessons,” Hunk answers with a small shrug, though his gazes down at Lance in sympathy, eyebrows sloping down. He looks out the window, frown deepening as though he can sense Keith from here. “Though to be fair, that guy did kind of insult you and Shiro. And Keith for not being full Galra. He was kind of a dick.”

“So he went after all of Keith’s sensitive spots,” Lance says, groaning a little and closing his eyes in frustration. Of course some asshole would try that. Lance’s surprised they’re from the Frozen Planet, but then some of the cities there have mixed feelings about the intergalactic alliance. And Keith’s an easy target to try and break it apart, brand new to this and with a reputation for getting emotional over his brother and being sensitive about his height. Lance should’ve considered that too. Except, Hunk also said him, so maybe Nexum’s just guessing and lucky. “Well, and me.”

“Think you might qualify, dude,” Hunk says, shaking his head a little as he gives Lance an exasperated sigh. His gaze is tired as Lance gawks at him, as though Hunk didn’t just do something wild like imply Keith has a crush on him.

Lance shakes his head, glancing down at the floor, his own blue slippers staring back at him, their silk shining in the soft light of the Marmoran ballroom. Lance wishes he could just let himself be absorbed with that all night, but Hunk’s words are wriggling in the back of his mind too much for that. Lance gazes back up at his friend, shaking his head as his gaze grows a little heavier. “To someone like Keith? He’s perfect, and I like him and I’m not good enough –“

“Maybe let Keith decide that,” Hunk cuts him off, voice loving but firm as he pats Lance on the shoulder. His gaze is tight, a gentle push not to let his fears control him. Lance nods reluctantly, because he knows Hunk is right. “He’s in the gardens.”

Lance walks onto the balcony, heading toward the stairs that lead to the garden when he hears a familiar laugh, except this time it’s strained and just a little too high to be natural. Lance presses himself against the wall, sliding up to the corner and glancing out of the corner of his eye. Standing on the other end of the balcony are Keith and Nexum, who’s standing way to close to Keith for Lance’s tastes. And apparently Keith’s going by that laugh and the way his ears are bent down and straight, body tilting away from Nexum even as the other man leans forward and traps Keith between the wall and his hips.

“I wanted to apologize, I know I got kind of mad in there,” Keith explains, voice soft and pleasant, gaze sheepish and a little worried as he stares up at Nexum. Lance knows Keith must realize by now that he offended not just Nexum, but all the mer people with his words, and he’s proud of him for taking the initiative to apologize. Lance just wishes he’d chosen to do it with Queen Luxia and not this unknown entity. “I’m really close to my brother, so hearing someone joke about him like that makes me protective.”

“Of course,” Nexum answers with a Cheshire cat smile, fingers ghosting across Keith’s waist. His gaze is somehow lustful and cold at the same time. Lance wishes he had his bow, inching a little closer to them. If Nexum made any sudden moves, he’s going in. “Though, I’m surprised, I thought he would’ve been protective over you, fresh flower that you are, and not the other way around.”

“He said the same thing not that long ago,” Keith says with a crooked smile, cocking his head a little bit as he tilts further back against the wall, so his neck is bared. Keith glances up at Nexum, expression growing anxious but also a little sheepish as a flush starts to grow on his cheeks. “And about Lance –“

“He’s right here,” Lance calls out as he comes from around the wall, hands on his hips and a smirk to match Nexum’s own on his face. Two can play at this game, even if one of them isn’t at the center of it (Keith cannot play this game. Lance knows this). Lance saunters over to them, forcing a casualness he doesn’t feel as he smiles at Keith, ignoring Nexum and trying to find a way to force himself between them.

“And he should go,” Nexum snaps, a hint of irritation slipping into his haughty tone. His hands find their way to Keith’s hips then, hands sliding toward his waistband. Keith freezes, gaze widening in confusion as his eyes drop to where Nexum’s hands are inching toward. Lance can’t tell if Keith doesn’t understand or If he’s too horrified to act, but Lance isn’t either.

Lance grabs Nexum by the arm and jerks him away from Keith, the other man stumbling with a cry . Lance has the element of surprise, and he pushes the other man as far away from Keith as he can. Keith stares at him, eyes wide and mouth hanging open a little as the scene unfolds. “Lance!”

“Yeah, no, I kind of thought that would be you too,” Lance admits with a shrug, grinning brightly at Keith. Keith lets out a small chortle of surprise, shaking his head as he takes a step forward. Then Keith’s gaze narrows and he lunges forward and Lance realizes too late that Nexum is a warrior as well as a diplomat. Keith can handle him, Keith can handle almost anyone, but Lance knows Marmora’s reputation will be marred if Keith lands a single blow, even if the name of protecting him. Lance turns to jump in front of Keith, let Nexum’s fist hit him instead of Keith sweeping him off his feet.

The blow never comes though, Nexum being lifted from the ground as Thace suddenly bursts through the doors near the other side of the balcony. Keith really chose a bad time to tell his guard to take a bathroom break. Thace holds Nexum in place with ease, giving Keith a quick once over to make sure he was okay.

“Thank you, Thace,” Keith answers with a small smile, coming to stand next to Lance. His gaze is thankful but also bemused as he does, bangs falling across his face as he stares at Lance. Lance bites his lip, ready to explain his reaction -

But then Queen Luxia and Shiro burst through the door, their expressions both concerned and a little annoyed. Someone must have seen the three of them through one of the windows and let these two know there’s trouble. “What is going on here?”

“Nexum here tried to proposition Keith as a way of apologizing for what he said inside,” Lance says in a tight voice, earning a shocked look from Queen Luxia that quickly morphs into disgust. Next to him, Keith’s raising his eyebrows and biting his lips, eyes wide as he glances between Nexum and Lance. Turns out he had been too naïve too realize what was going on before. Luckily Lance isn’t. “I’m guessing you’ll be okay with a verbal one?”

“I’m deeply sorry for what I said about the Mer, I know you’ve done a lot to help with the war efforts with Zarkonia,” Keith says, voice genuine and apologetic as he glances up at Queen Luxia, frowning softly as he bows. Queen Luxia takes in his face and nods, smile small and still a little hurt, but Lance can see the forgiveness in her gaze. Keith will have to release an official apology tomorrow, but he already has Queen Luxia’s forgiveness now.

“Thank you, prince Keith,” Queen Luxia answers him with a small bow of her own, though not as deep as Keith’s. His was to humble himself, hers is to show the strength of her kindness. Her gaze grows more icy as she lands on Nexum, lips pressing into a thin line as one of her own body guards take him by the arm. Keith’s eyebrows shoot up again, mouth forming into a little “oh” as though he thought Nexum's actions toward him would go unpunished. “Nexum, with me. You were on thin ice as it was.”

The two walk away, Shiro in tow and Hunk joining them in the doorway, looks ready to explain how Nexum riled Keith up. Next to him, Keith stares at the ground, arms crossed loosely and guilt still heavy in his eyes. That wouldn’t do at his own party, so Lance take his hand suddenly, gesturing at the dance floor with a tender smile that only grows wider when Keith nods shyly. Tonight can still be salvaged after all. . 

* * *

Back in the ballroom, Keith plans to say his goodbyes to Lance and his father and hide away in his room before he can make things any worse. Keith’s not even sure how the almost fight happened, he just knows Lance felt the need to intervene. Lance though, gently grabs his arm and guides Keith toward the floor and away from the door. Keith pouts a little at him, gaze unsure as he meets Lance’s reassuring one, but lets himself be led to the dance floor. Lance smiles at him a little more softly than the one he gave the room moments before, fingers lingering in the space near Keith’s waist. “Would you like this dance?”

“Got to do something right tonight,” Keith says with a small shrug, smile crooked as he slides one hands around Lance’s shoulder and takes the other with his own. Keith imagined their first real dance would be after a success, not when Lance is treating him like he’s made out of something as delicate as the threads of silk running through his hair.

“Keith, it didn’t go badly,” Lance tells him as they begin to move across the dance floors, bodies easily falling into the pace and rhythm. Keith raises an eyebrow, gaze disbelieving and Lance has the good grace to look a little sheepish. It could’ve been worse, sure, but it isn’t exactly Keith’s most shining moment either. “Besides, he was the creep, not you.”

Keith lets out a small groan at that, letting Lance spin him before coming back to grasp his forearms. He may hate Nexum now, but Keith doesn’t want anyone getting blamed for something they didn’t do. “Why do you keep implying he was propositioning me?”

“Because he was, Keith!” Lance mutters just a little too loudly, the two of them drawing stares from around the room again. Keith knows he’s supposed to be on display, but he’d like that to stop now. Lance’s eyebrows pressed down and frown small and tight as he stares at Keith in disbelief. Keith has to give it to Lance, he’s a really good actor.

“Really?” Keith whispers in a small, flat voice, eyebrows dropping and ears tilting forward. Except Lance doesn’t come clean or tell Keith to stop ruining their cover for why Lance suddenly pulled Nexum away. He just gives Keith that look of disbelief from before, with something sincere and worried behind it and – Oh. “Oh God, I was just trying to fix things and I made them worse. I ruined everything.”

“Keith, you didn’t ruin anything, and I seem to remember a certain Marmoran telling me most people weren’t good at things on the first try,” Lance reminds him with a small smile, playfully flicking one of Keith’s ears before it can droop all the way down. Keith’s ears twitch, pouting as Lance turns him again.

“Don’t use my words against me,” Keith mutters, wishing he could cross his arms or use his glare to get out of the light flush coming across his cheeks or the unsure look in his eyes. But Keith has used up all his goodwill already tonight, so he can’t afford to use any of his defense mechanisms.

“Can’t help it, besides, I’m relieved you screwed up,” Lance says as they do a few complicated steps, Keith moving with ease even as his mouth falls open a little, eyes wide with confusion and hurt. Lance’s expression changes so slowly it’s almost comical, smooth grin and bright eyes for the crowd morphing into a look of horror as he realizes what he said.

Keith’s not surprised when Lance dips him a moment later, as though to get away from this conversation. Keith feels that way too and lets himself glide nearly to the floor just to prolong it, his hair brushing against the tiles for a second. At least this times the gasps and murmurs are positive. Keith pulls himself up by Lance’s hand a moment later, gaze sharp though still not quite a glare as he stares at the other boy. “Why?”

Lance takes a deep breath and leans forward, until there’s barely any room between them. His gaze is soft and apologetic, eyebrows sloped down in shame. “Because look. When we were kids I was always jealous of you. You’ve always been so cute and then you were good with swords and a good pilot and horseback riding – though Blue and I are a great team – and I just thought if you we’re better at me than this too, you wouldn’t like me back … and you’re laughing at me.”

“First of all, I’m bat at a lot of things. This, strategy, lying. And I meant it when I said I was a terrible shot,” Keith answers back with a smirk, shaking his head a little as he leans in closer to Lance, whose gaze is soft and intrigued. Whoever thought that listing off all of his flaws was going to be a way to win over his crush? “Second, you’re an idiot.”

“Thanks, Keith,” Lance mutters, but he doesn’t try to pull back when Keith’s grip on his shoulder and hands tighten, they’re bodies pressed so close that there’s no room between them.

“Lance,” Keith whisper, not able to keep either the soft teasing from his voice or the anxiety, still creeping in even though Keith has no reason to expect rejection anymore. Old habits die hard, and he’s liked Lance for so long, the idea that the other boy genuinely feels anything for him is making Keith’s head spin. “I’ve had a crush on you since I was 7. So I already like you.”

Lance nearly drops him as he dips him again, only his strong grip and Keith’s quick reflexes keeping him from hitting the floor. Lance’s eyes are wide and a little awed, and Keith hopes it’s the good awe and not “oh no, I can’t believe Keith thought I meant romantically when I said like” awe. “Wait what?”

“You’re really handsome and charming and you speak like five languages, and I’ve seen you shoot a bow,” Keith answers in a rambled, gazing down so he’s looking at the soft skin of Lance’s neck as they do another sweep across the room. The blush from earlier that hadn’t quite faded, spreading down to his neck as they move closer together again. Keith glances up at Lance, summoning the reckless courage he has in a fight. “I was just too shy to say anything.”

“Well, I guess we owe Nexum a thank you after all,” Lance says softly, gaze growing tender and affectionate as he lets go of Keith’s hand and brings it to lie against his cheek instead. Keith can feel the butterflies surging in his stomach, skin singing at the touch. Lance likes _him_ too. “Who knows how long we would’ve gone on obliviously without him being an asshole.”

“Lance? I’m gonna kiss you,” Keith tells him with the same kind of conviction he talks about the enemy, expression fierce and determined. Lance raises an eyebrow and Keith smiles crookedly, gaze growing embarrassed because that might have been a little too strong. He glances down at the floor. “If you want, I mean.”

“You’re so awkward, you’re lucky you have me,” Lance teases as he uses his fingertips to lift up Keith’s chin. Keith pouts at him, but his ears are pointed in Lance’s direction and gaze soft, so Keith knows he’s not fooling anyone. Then Lance leans in a little and Keith meets him in the space between, messy and little imperfect, like them. Then Lance deepens the kiss and Keith melts against him, sighing in contentment at Lance’s next words. “And I’m lucky I got you.”

Yes, Keith thinks as they spend the rest of the night dancing together and stealing kisses, he and Lance are very lucky they found each other after all those years of missing.


End file.
